


Broken Dreams

by AvoidingAverage



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Daemati, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mates, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Non-Canonical Character Death, Post-ACOMAF, Romance, Romantic Angst, Soulmates, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:47:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 55,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage
Summary: "I had made a terrible mistake.  Somehow, I’d begun to believe in the visions of Velaris.  Of a new world where the stars listened and dreams were answered.  In him.I thought that the worst had already happened.  That watching my sisters go into that horrific Cauldron, seeing Nesta’s helpless rage as the magic swallowed her up.  Hearing the gasps of pain from Azriel’s mortal wound or Cassian’s bloody attempts to drag himself to Nesta’s side were the worst kind of torture.I was wrong."Set at the end of ACOMAF.  Follow Feyre after the devastating loss of her mate bond with Rhysand and her struggle to survive while surrounded by enemies.  Eventual Feysand





	1. Prologue

Broken Dreams  
Prologue

 

I had made a terrible mistake. Somehow, I’d begun to believe in the visions of Velaris. Of a new world where the stars listened and dreams were answered. In him.

I thought that the worst had already happened. That watching my sisters go into that horrific Cauldron, seeing Nesta’s helpless rage as the magic swallowed her up. Hearing the gasps of pain from Azriel’s mortal wound or Cassian’s bloody attempts to drag himself to Nesta’s side were the worst kind of torture.

I was wrong. 

My fault. It was all my fault. I’d let that cursed book sway me into believing I could control its magic and harness the power of the Cauldron. Every bit of blood spilled across the grey flagstones was because of me. Deep inside, a small part of me was sobbing in wretched, horrified guilt as I looked at the brutalized body of Cassian, the silent, broken shells of my sisters.

Stupid, stupid! I raged. My human heart would be the downfall of those who had shown me laughter, light, and the truest friendship I’d known. My true family.

I knew now the only way for Rhysand to be free was for me to go with them. For one more sacrifice that was sure to kill the scarred remains of my heart. But for him, I would go beneath the Mountain once more. I would let them take me, use me, so that Rhys would be able to get my family out of here.

Tamlin’s promise, his desire to return to the days before I became broken, before I shattered my soul to save him was the key to their safety. Whispering to the spell that bound our powers, I allowed my light to wash over the room, leaving us blinking and stunned when it washed away. Tiny fractures in the dense web of wards surrounding the fortress would allow my family to escape, so long as they had a distraction.

Rhysand seemed to guess at what I intended because he reached out for me, trying to pull me back to his side but I moved out of his reach. “Tamlin?” I whispered, forcing my eyes to soften in confusion and fear.

Tamlin, the idiot, took the bait immediately and rushed forward, pulling me into his arms and away from Rhysand, from all that was good in me. I tried not to think about how my feet made sticky sounds as I walked across the slowly drying pool of Azriel’s blood. 

Carefully, I tucked the weeping part of me into the back of my mind and allowed Tamlin’s arms to circle me in a new cage. One bought with the blood of Cassian, Azriel, and my sister’s humanity. I tried to avoid Rhys’ eyes and focused on how his hands shook before closing into fists.

Please, I begged silently, please understand. Please let me save you. 

Hybern clucked his tongue in mock sympathy at Rhysand, “Fickle little thing isn’t she?” His dark eyes scanned me with derision, “Somehow, I don’t think I believe this light show broke the bond Rhysand has placed on your future wife, dear Tamlin.”

Dread pooled in my stomach, but I forced myself to remain placid and weak in Tamlin’s arms, “What do you mean?” I asked, voice quivering, “What did he do to me?”

Rhysand went very still.

“You can break the spell he has placed on her?” Tamlin’s voice was rough with emotion and I froze in horror as I realized that the stakes were far higher than even I imagined. Despite myself, I let my eyes meet Rhys’ and shivered at the devastation that flickered for a moment before he put on his mask of indifference.

Coolly Rhysand put his hands in his pockets and met the king’s gaze, “Surely you won’t get involved in a lover’s quarrel when you have so much more to concern yourself with.” Even Rhys could not hide the thin note of desperation in his voice as he continued, “Let me have the girl and we will give you the Book of Breathings and leave in peace.”

Hybern laughed, a cruel sound that made me shudder despite myself, “As if you could withhold anything from me now.”

Rhys’ eyes hardened and he looked at Tamlin, “Do not let him take her. If you ever did truly love her, then let her go. You know what he will do to her.” Tamlin stiffened as Rhys slowly dropped to his knees, “Please, Tamlin. Please don’t do this.”

My mind went back to the day that the roles were reversed, when it was Tamlin begging for mercy from a furious Rhysand. A time when I believed that he was my enemy. Amaranta’s Whore. For me, he allowed Tamlin to drag him back to the darkest moments of his life. For me, he would bow before his most hated enemy. 

Tears ran freely down my cheeks and I pressed against the solid bands of muscle that continued to keep me in place. I couldn’t let them do this to him. He had to be safe, had to escape without breaking.

Suddenly, bands of white hot magic appeared, anchoring Rhysand to the floor by his wrists and neck. Forcing him to remain kneeling as the King of Hybern stepped closer.

In the distance, I thought I heard the malevolent whisper of the Book of Breathings, Foolish, wicked liar, as Hybern directed his attention to me. Grinning at my mate, he ran one finger lightly along my chin, ignoring the furious growls that erupted from Tamlin and Rhysand, “Unfortunately, an agreement has already been made.” His eyes met mine and I began to struggle against Tamlin as I realized what he intended, “I am a man of my word.

My thoughts splintered as a wash of new, hot agony split across my body and seemed to reverberate into my very soul. Distantly I could hear the shouts of the others, of Rhysand, as the effects of Hybern’s magic ripped into our bond. The Cauldron’s sickly presence whispered and clung to me, begging me to give it more of myself, to allow myself to be swept away into the cold silence of its depths. Tamlin’s presence remained at my back, restraining me against any attempt to return to my mate and perhaps from the Cauldron itself. 

Screams of horror and protest were trapped in my chest as I locked eyes with Rhysand, only a few feet away. Heartbreaking panic and fear made his achingly familiar eyes bright and chaotic. Dark wisps of inky darkness seeped from him, reminding me of the night when his shouts brought me stumbling into his room to his side. 

Gritting my teeth, I summoned my flagging strength, slamming an elbow back into Tamlin’s gut and was rewarded with a grunt of pain and whoosh of air from his lungs. Stumbling forward, I attempted to cross the room to Rhysand even as I felt the Spring Lord lung for me once again. Something inside me still believed that if I could just reach Rhysand, if I could just touch him one last time, that somehow everything would work out. That this was just an awful dream. That we could go back to our city among the stars.

The magic in the air reached a crescendo and I staggered, one arm outstretched towards Rhys, toward the only home I’d ever known. My knees hit the ground with a painful crack and Rhys roared in fury as he fought against his bonds. Fought for me. Rough hands pulled me away only a fingertip away from my true mate.

“No!” Rhys bellowed, eyes only on me as the link between us was slowly shredded, “Feyre!”

My mind seemed to be working in an endless loop, grasping at the fraying link that tied me to my heart. Rhysand. Rhysand. I beat against that internal wall that separated me from my mate, from my magic, raking claws of iron and steel against its endless surface without success. I love you, I shouted down what was left of the link, I love you Rhysand. 

Please don’t leave me , a selfish part of me whispered.

Agony pulsed through my veins increasing in intensity. I couldn’t stop screaming. My ears thundered and my vision narrowed to the twin pools of violet horror across from me even as Tamlin began to pull me further away, whispering nonsense to me as my body spasmed in pain.

“No, no please!” I begged, uncaring if I appeared weak, “Rhysand!” My struggles began to weaken as a wave of darkness swept over my vision and dragged me down into silence.

 

I woke up to silence. Slowly, I opened my eyes and frowned up at the canopy. My body felt strange and painfully sore. I reached one hand out to the other side of the bed and frowned groggily when I didn’t feel the familiar warmth of Rhys beside me. With a gasp of pain, I sat up straight as my brain filled in the gaps in my memory. Horror had me shaking hard enough for the headboard to rattle and I bit down hard on the back of my hand to keep from screaming in agony.

 

The mate bond was gone and with it all traces of the dream that was Rhysand. I was alone once again.  
 


	2. A New Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a camp of enemies

Chapter One

I expected to wake up in chains or back at the gilded prison that Tamlin had so carefully created for me. Instead I found myself in a relatively sparse room, decorated only with a thick rug, a dresser, and the bed I currently sat in. The walls looked to be made of a sturdy grey fabric that reminded my of the tents the Illyrians used in their mountain camps.

The thought of those high mountain ranges and soaring skies…of him made me lose my breath. Instinctively I reached for him, clutching at the tattered fragments of my mate bond. 

Where is he where is he where is he

I forced my thoughts away from the terrified keening sounds that kept echoing in my lonely head, I took stock of my surroundings. Sometime after I’d collapsed, someone had removed my Illyrian leathers and weapons in favor of a soft cotton tunic and leggings. I gritted my teeth and refused to wonder who had done this.

Outside, I could hear the sounds of several unfamiliar voices and the noises of a busy camp. Where was Tamlin? Or Hybern for that matter? Did my attempt to save Rhys and the others fail?

Rhys, the broken part of me whispered, he’s gone. He’ll never forgive me for this. This will destroy him.

I refused to let that moment of horror and pain be the last time I saw my family. I couldn’t let that be my last moment with Rhys.

I’ll come back, I whispered, as though my words could reach him, I swear I’ll come back.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I tried not to look at where the tattoo used to curl in delicate whorls over my wrist and palm. Without it, I felt naked like I was missing a key piece of my identity. I wondered when I’d become so attached to the tattoo that symbolized one of the most helpless moments of my life. When had the memories shifted to peace and feelings of love.

Padding to the dresser, I looked through the drawers with disgust. Tamlin had ensured that they were filled with gauzy, light dresses—nothing like the Illyrian leathers I’d arrived in. I grabbed the simplest one in a pale grey and quickly changed into it. I hated how these clothes made me look weak, fragile—but it would be their mistake if they believed it.

As I changed, I carefully, meticulously, tucked away the pieces of that were reborn in the Night Court. I made my heart into shadow and bone once more.

There was a polite knock on the post that supported the entrance to my tent, but Tamlin and Lucien entered before I could respond. Tamlin’s bright eyes took in the dress and my bare hand and relaxed slightly.  
He cleared his throat, “Feyre, I…I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. We were called away by the king.”

Lucien’s eye bored into mine as if I could reveal the location of Elain through sheer force of will. Part of me thought he deserved this suffering. Deserved to be kept from his mate—just like I was. A very small voice in my heart whispered that he was as much a victim of Tamlin’s selfishness as I was.

I bit my lip and remained where I was standing, several feet away, “So you’re working for Hybern now?” I made my voice sound confused, weak even though it drove me mad to do so.

Running his hands through his blonde hair, Tamlin took a step towards me, “Feyre, I went mad when you disappeared and when I got that note I knew he must have done something to you.” He continued with a slight smile when I frowned, “ I knew you never learned how to read or write…I mean, you nearly bit my head off when I tried to help you learn.”

I blinked. That was the reason he thought Rhysand had kidnapped me? That was the reason I’d been ripped from the Night Court and my sister’s sacrificed to the Cauldron? A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me as I fought to keep from hyperventilating or screaming. I wasn’t sure which.

“Feyre?” He sounded concerned now, but I waved him off, spinning my lie with ease.

“I wondered if you would realize what was happening…” I gave him a wobbly smile, tears stinging my eyes, “Rhysand,” I was proud my voice didn’t break at the mention of his name,” was so sure you would leave me alone after you got it.”

Tamlin’s relieved smile would have been like glorious sunlight to the girl I’d once been, but the new me had been reborn in the light of the stars. He closed the distance between us and gently ran the tips of his fingers along my cheekbones. I closed my eyes, as though I was overcome with emotion to hide the feeling of revulsion.

“I would have torn apart the world to get you back.”

I flinched at the parallel between Tamlin and the words Rhysand had once whispered to me. At the difference between being cherished and being caged.

I’m so sorry Rhys.

Lucien cleared his throat before Tamlin could lean in for a kiss, “We need to hurry. Hybern is not a patient man.”

I froze in horror, “Hybern?” My eyes flicked over to Tamlin, trying to understand what was going on.

He sighed, “Feyre, I had to make a deal to ensure you were saved. Hybern…expects you to repay him for helping you escape the Night Court.” 

“He put my sisters in the Cauldron!” I spat.

Tamlin winced, “Please, I didn’t know that Ianthe would do that to them. I am so sorry.”

Ianthe. That bitch was living on borrowed time. I would make sure she suffered a slow death if only for putting that broken look in Nesta and Elain’s eyes, for trying to touch Rhys.

I forced myself to calm at the matching expression of agony on Lucien’s face. Yes, you care about the poor human now that you know she’s your mate, don’t you?

Tamlin continued, trying to calm my fury, “Hybern wants to meet to discuss the cost of rescuing you from the spell he put on you.” He twisted a strand of my hair around a finger, “As soon as we fulfill the bargain we can go back to the Spring Court. We can go home again.”

He was an idiot if he truly believed that I would ever want to return to his court. It was no longer my home, if it truly ever was. 

Pursing my lips, I laced my fingers through his and let him pull me out of the tent and into the sunlight, “Let’s go find out what Hybern wants.”

Wait for me Rhys.


	3. The King

It didn’t seem right that the sun continued to beat down on the worn earth and I could still hear the faint calls of birds over the sounds of the busy camp. I kept myself calm by focusing on gathering information. Everything I uncovered allowed my friends and family to come closer to defeating Hybern for good.

I winced slightly as my head throbbed painfully, a reminder that my sanity was hanging by a thread. Pushing the feelings of dread and grief away, I let myself be absorbed by the same iciness that allowed me to push the knife into the hearts of innocent victims. That allowed me to destroy myself to save a man who didn’t truly love me.

Tamlin held my hand as we wound our way through the crowded campsite in the direction of the largest tent in the camp. I could have found my way blindfolded. The magic of the Cauldron sang to me, growing stronger with each step even with the obvious warding Hybern created to keep it safe.

As we walked, I curiously eyed the variety of soldiers that milled around performing their tasks or just sitting around. I took an instinctive step back when a massive spindly fae stepped over us without seeming to notice us. Gawking slightly, I noticed that its dark grey limbs seemed to have extra joints and shivered at the sight of the stained, jagged nails that tipped its hands.

I didn’t enjoy how so many of Hybern’s soldiers leered at me as I walked in their midst. This dress made me look like bait, a true victim. For once, I was almost glad that Tamlin was nearby. At least I could count on him for violence.

As if triggered by my thoughts, Tamlin gave a low growl and suddenly the soldiers found something to busy themselves with. My magic rose in me at the threat and I wished I could demonstrate who the real monster was here. I felt like I was barely in control of myself. The Cauldron’s song made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

It was almost a relief to reach the command tent and move away from the gazes of the kind of monsters Hybern used to destroy Prythian. The tent was cool and dark and I listened curiously to a discussion of troop supplies. Tamlin cleared his throat and the men exited the tent quickly—I guess he wasn’t completely convinced that he could trust me yet.

Somehow, this close to the Cauldron, the sound of its power became like a great, terrible silence in my head and heart. Hello strange one, it seemed to croon.

Hello, you oversized bathtub, I snarled back.

Scanning the tent with my powers, I eyed two fae that lounged on cushions in the shadows of the room. Something about them made even the magic in me recoil in disgust.

A movement from the table made me shift my attention to the biggest threat in the room…the king of Hybern. He ignored them for a long moment in favor of continuing to study the map that was spread over a massive wooden table. I had just begun to edge a little closer to try to make out the information when Hybern spoke in a deceptively pleasant voice,” Tamlin…I thought you would be on your way south by now.”

Tamlin shifted and looked at me guiltily, “I wanted to ensure that Feyre woke up and was appraised of the situation.”

Hybern finally looked up with a mocking smile that made Tamlin bristle beside me, “We do not have time to allow your romantic dramas impede with the progress of war.”

As he spoke, I could’ve sworn I felt something stirring in the room but I couldn’t afford to be distracted from the monster in front of me.

Sighing, Tamlin took both my hands so that I was forced to look up at him, “I’m so sorry Feyre. I have to escort a legion through the Spring Court and address some issues there. In the mean time, Hybern has requested that you perform the task in return for his assistance against the Night Court.”

He directed the rest of the message to the king, “Lucien will remain here and make sure she’s safe.”

Hybern shrugged, “I have no intentions of killing her, my dear High Lord.” His low voice made my headache and sweat trickle down my spine. I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse to be trapped in this camp with Hybern or back in the Spring Court with Tamlin.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to respond, “How do I know that the task you require won’t kill me instead?” Hybern’s eyes shifted to my hands and I had to will them to stop glowing like embers dug out of a fire.

His eyes gleamed dimly in the gloom of the tent, “Your powers are far to interesting for me to dispose of you just yet…so long as you behave yourself.”

I chewed on my lower lip, weighing my options. Finally, I settled on the decision that would help the Night Court the most—even if I returned to them as a shell of my former self. “Go, Tamlin. I’ll see you when you return,” I glanced over at Lucien, “We’ll be fine.” Lucien nodded and I could tell he had his own reasons for remaining with me but that was a problem for another day.

Tamlin still looked unsure but he nodded and gave a meaningful look to Lucien. Moving briskly, as though he’d lose his nerve, Tamlin brushed a kiss across my cheek that made me want to puke and walked out of the tent. 

There was a moment of silence as Hybern and I just stared at each other. I knew that he never believed that I was in love with Tamlin. He knew exactly what he’d destroyed. The thought made me grind my teeth and frost slowly grow up the sides of the massive table.

Hybern’s smile widened and I resisted the urge to bare my teeth at him, “Now that he’s gone, we can be honest with each other.” He moved around the table to sit in one of the large chairs placed around it.

“Your loyalties no longer belong to our naïve Lord of Spring.” I shifted, looking guiltily at Lucien but he didn’t look terribly shocked. I suppose that could be added to the list of things we’d talk about later. In some ways, it was a relief to not have to pretend for a while.

“…but I have no interests in these foolish love triangles. I require your assistance to retrieve the Book of Breathings that was stolen from me.”

I laughed bitterly, “Why in the world would I want to help you do anything? I know exactly what that Book can be used for.” At least one thing went right that night.

“Have a look at the map you were trying so desperately to see earlier.” My face burned but I stepped closer. Information was information.

My eyes widened in horror when I traced the familiar terrain of the Night Court and the heart of the Court of Dreamers. Velaris. The city of stars.

Hybern continued as though I’d responded to the implied threat, “You see, I’m willing to ignore the pet city of the Night Court as I continue to conquer Prythian.” He waved a hand, “I do not wish to destroy all the cultural hubs in my new territory and I know a great many fae who are interested in gaining entrance to such a place.”

Nausea churned in my gut. No. They couldn’t take away the refuge for so many.

My hands clenched and I smelled the sharp tang of blood when my nails bit into my palms, “I cannot surrender all of Prythian to keep one city safe, “ I gritted out.

I’m sorry Rhys. Mor. Cassian. Azriel.

He chuckled, “So noble. What if I sweetened the deal for you?”

I arched an eyebrow and focused on keeping my features blank as I tried desperately to plot some way to save everyone and everything I loved.

“My new lands are also in need of powerful new leaders to ensure the…peace is maintained.” My eyes widened as I realized what he implied, “ I can offer you the lives of your new friends and the safety of Velaris in return for your cooperation.”

The room seemed to spin and I rubbed against the pounding in my temples, “Why would you do this?”

“You wound me Feyre…I am not some sort of villain in a fairy tale.” I wanted to laugh but all my stomach could do was think of vomiting.

“Even if I agreed to your terms, you would have to trust me to enter into the Night Court alone to retrieve the Book.”

I could go back, back to Rhys. Somehow we could fix the mate bond, I just knew it. Somehow we could go back o the way we were—the way we were supposed to be.

Hybern’s face became shrewd, “That is one option…” 

The look is his eye made me take an involuntary step back, but it was already too late. A wave of magic swept through the room and I gasped as it seemed to take all of my powers with it. The loss was jarring, painful and my knees hit the thick carpet with a dull thud. Panicking, I backed away from Hybern and called out to Lucien, “Lucien! Run!”

He remained standing, eyes unfocused and unseeing, arms slack at his side. A mean laugh echoed through the room and the two fae slowly walked over to the red headed male’s side. The female brushed aside his hair fondly, “Isn’t she sweet? Trying to save dear Lucien when he’s already gone…”

I gasped, realizing with horror what the magic I’d sensed earlier had truly been. Daemati.

Turning back to Hybern, I growled, “Why are you doing this?”

He stood, stretching comfortably, “I was certain you would not be a fan of the methods I plan to use to ensure you remain loyal, so I decided to remove the element of consent entirely.” 

Hybern brushed a strand of hair away from my face, “Dagdan, Brannagh, try not to break her, won’t you?”  
 


	4. The Body

The male twin, I was guessing Dagdan, grabbed my by my arms and hauled me to my feet. It was ironic that I had become so used to the powers and strength of the fae that I seemed to collapse without them. I struggled against his hold and managed to get an arm free long enough to slam my elbow back into his diaphragm. He wheezed but refused to let go.

Brannagh slapped my hard enough that I had to shake my head to force my eyes to focus. Snarling like an animal, I turned my wrath to Hybern, “You’re a dead man.”

Hybern didn’t seem fazed by my rage, “Come now, Feyre. My niece and nephew are only here to ensure that you remain true to your word when you enter into the Night Court. Do yourself a favor and drop those clever little shields your mate taught you to build around your mind.”

I raised my chin in defiance, “Never.”

Sighing, he stood and began to walk back to where he’d been looking over the map when we’d arrived, “I’m afraid your refusals will only make things difficult for you Feyre darling…”

A red haze seemed to go over my vision as he dared use the name Rhysand called me. Dared to mention the mate that he’d stolen from me. Whipping my head to the right, I bit down hard on Dagden’s forearm and didn’t stop when I tasted blood. The daemati twin cursed viciously and recoiled to strike me, but I used the distraction to twist my body violently and kick out with both feet. I landed a solid double kick to the chest of his twin and the momentum tore me out of his arms when he stumbled back.

Moving with the speed I’d honed in the winter woods of my childhood home, I snatched one of the daggers from Brannagh’s belt and threw it as hard as I could towards Hybern. As soon as it left my hand, I let out a gasp of pain as Dagden tackled me from the side and slammed me into the ground. Choking and gasping for air, I watched as the king calmly dodged the knife and look down on me with a smirk.

Brannagh leaned down and ran another blade down my cheek in a cold caress, “Don’t try that again,” she warned silkily.

Chest heaving, I continued to growl as they hauled me up and placed iron manacles around my wrists and legs—Dagden holding my tightly until they were secure. Cold fury throbbed throughout my body, keeping pace with the agony of being helpless in front of so many enemies.

I refused to be afraid. I refused to let them break me.

Baring my teeth in a mockery of a smile, I growled, “You’re living on borrowed time. When Rhysand comes for me, he will make Amarantha’s treatment of Jurian look like child’s play.”

Hybern sighed, “Yes, we will have to do something about your mate before he impedes any of my plans.” A slow, evil grin stretched his mouth, “Luckily I have just the idea…”

Dagdan dragged me, kicking and screaming, out of the tent before I could find out what he meant.

 

Rhysand 

Where is she where is she where is she

His mind seemed trapped in an endless loop of nauseating fury and fear for his mate. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest, couldn’t do anything but imagine what kind of horrors Feyre was facing now. 

Even Mor avoided him when she wasn’t tending to Azriel or Cassian. His power was fluctuating like crazy and he couldn’t seem to shake the cloud of inky darkness that slid around his body in waves. Hell, he’d picked a fight Amren the other day.

On the night she’d been….taken, Mor had winnowed him with Azriel as soon as the wards were weak enough for her to manage. She’d managed to convince him that keeping the Book of Breathings safe and getting Cassian and Azriel to a healer was all they could do at the moment. He was still furious that she had prevented him from trying to return to Feyre’s side.

By that time, Amren had threatened to chain him up if he continued to act like an idiot. Hence the fight.

Now he just paced through the castle, counting the hours since she’d been taken and continuing to try to reach her through what had once been their mate bond. 

Feyre darling, I can’t take this any longer. Please…I have to know you’re safe. I have to know you aren’t hurt.

She didn’t answer. She never did. His gut twisted with another wave of fear as a small part of him whispered that she didn’t answer him because she was dead. Azriel, even in his weakened state, had confirmed that Feyre was not in the Spring Court, although Tamlin was rumored to be returning soon.

He stared at the map of Prythian with violent focus. He would rip Tamlin apart this time—that he continued to draw breath on the same planet as Feyre was an affront.

He was so tired but he knew he would never sleep without feeling her next to him. Without being able to reach out and touch her. If he got her back—no, when he got her back—he was going lay her over his knee and spank her for daring to sacrifice herself like that. Then he’d reacquaint himself with every inch of her delicious little body.

Rhysand was forced from his thoughts at the sound of footsteps. Leaping forward with a burst of energy, he slid to a halt when he saw Mor’s tear streaked face.

Terrified, he reached out to her, “What is it? Is Azriel and Cassian alright?” Carefully he pulled his cousin closer into a hug, but she only began to sob harder, shaking violently against him. 

“They found her…outside the wards.” Mor choked out and Rhys felt his heart stutter in his chest.

Slowly, another person entered the room and he looked up to see Amren looking more horrifically sad than he’d ever seen her. She was carrying…

Rhysand went very still. A roar of white noise seemed to drown out the sound of Amren and Mor’s voices, though their lips continued to move. His entire focus, his entire world seemed to zoom into the body Amren continued to cradle.

His arms left Mor and he slowly walked towards Amren and the body she held so carefully, so lovingly. 

So I’m your huntress and thief?

Shaking, breaths heaving out of his chest with violent force, Rhys reached a hand out and traced a strand of golden hair off her face. She was too pale, too still. It couldn’t be her. Couldn’t be his wild, reckless mate. She couldn’t just stop being there.

I can’t concentrate with you around…I can feel you from a room away.

Suddenly, the room was exploding, power coming off him in waves of violent force. He couldn’t seem to get enough air. Couldn’t seem to stop shaking.

What will you call me?

Wildly his mind tried to come up with a way to make her wake, to make her look up with those clever little eyes and call him a prick for the thousandth time. Maybe he could re-gift her with his powers again…maybe he could force the other High Lords to the same. But as he cradled her stiff, cold body, he knew it was already too late.

You’re mine.

She’d died alone, among enemies while he’d been helpless to save her. Her body bore signs of a struggle. Of her attempts to escape, to attack. His Feyre would have never gone easily. Would have fought to her last breath. She’d been stabbed, he noted distantly, his mind cataloging the wounds and finding the source of the blood that’d dried on her Illyrian fighting leathers. It seemed what she’d told the Bone Carver came true after all.

When Amarantha made me kill those two faeries, if the third hadn’t been Tamlin, I would have put the dagger into my own heart at the end.

Falling to his knees on the hard stone floor, he cradled Feyre’s body to his chest as his heart broke into a million shards of glass and pain. Gone, she was gone.


	5. And so it begins...

Dagdan and Brannagh dragged me roughly from the tent, ignoring any attempts I made to escape their hold. Lucien followed meekly in our wake for a few moments before turning to return to the tent where I’d been sleeping. The daemati had probably convinced him that I was busy sulking in my tent for the next several days.

As soon as I was out of the shade of the main tent, the first taunts and lewd suggestions began to be shouted from various directions around the camp. Raucous laughter followed and one of the bolder fae tossed a half eaten apple at me at I was frog-marched through the camp. I snarled as the sticky mass made contact with my shoulder, but I was helpless without my magic.

Brannagh sneered at me, dark eyes gleaming, “Looks like your pretty little dress got dirty…such a shame.”

Her twin chuckled, “It wouldn’t have lasted long anyway.”

Icy cold threaded through my bones. Where were they taking me? Just how did they think they would break through my shields without the power of someone like Rhysand. Reflexively I checked my mental shields and relaxed only slightly when I felt their adamantine strength. I missed the sensation of wicked claws along them.

As we moved deeper into the camp, I took deep breaths to center me. I’d lived most of my life without magic—I would not become a victim just because it’d been taken away from me by that stupid hunk of gods forsaken metal. The Cauldron seemed to filled the now empty well of magic within me with its own essence and I shivered at the foreign sensation. It felt…smug.

Growling, I ignored it in favor of trying to gain as much intel as possible about the camp. It was massive—far larger than the Illyrian camps we’d visited—and everywhere I looked I could see more fae warriors millings about. More alarming were the strange creatures that walked among the common soldiers. I even caught sight of a few of the Attor’s kin and resisted the urge to go for another knife.

Dagdan yanked me down a path that ran along the edge of the mountainside and I gasped in shock and horror at the sight before me. Lines and lines of soldiers extending beyond the horizon and the edges of my advanced vision. They moved forward in perfect unison, responding to the commands given by their drill leaders. How had Hybern managed to get them all? How could we ever defeat them?

I let the twins pulled me the last several yards, lost in thought. I looked up when we stopped and Dagdan uncuffed one of my manacles only to force me into a new set that hung from a sturdy wooden frame that extended above my head and sides. Resisting was useless, as Brannagh kept her knife pressed firmly against my throat, but I did it anyway while he forced my other hand into the other cuff.

I lunged for them as they stepped away, but the chain pulled me up short. Flicking my long hair out of my face, I growled in annoyance and headed towards the frame in order to dislodge the manacles. Dagdan pulled on a series of levers and suddenly the slack in the chains connected to the cuffs pulled taught. By the time he’d finished, my arms were up and away from my body so that I had to stand on my toes to keep my body weight from pulling painfully on my shoulders.

Breathing was more difficult in this position, but I refused to allow the fear and panic rising in my gut to choke me. I would not let them win. I tilted my chin up slightly, “A bit dramatic wouldn’t you say?”

Brannagh cackled happily, “Oh good, you have some spirit in you. I was so worried we wouldn’t have any fun before you were broken. After all, we still need to repay you for what you did to our sweet Amarantha.”

Nausea churned in my gut at the mention of her name. My vision seemed to waver and I had to struggle to keep the panic attack at bay. She was dead. She couldn’t get to us anymore. I’d watched Tamlin rip her to shreds.

Narrowing my eyes, I looked them over stubbornly, “I will not allow you through my shields. You will not use me to hurt them!” The words rang like a vow but the twins just laughed harder.

“Stupid human, you’ll soon be begging for us to enter your mind and take away your pain…” She leaned in closer to me, “but that will only be the beginning.”

Instinctively, I fought against the chains, trying to get my arms free. Panic made my chest tight as I realized just how vulnerable I’d become. I’d been so stupid to think I’d just be up against Tamlin the Tool if I was taken by them. 

The twins watched me struggle with cruel smiles. I finally stood still, gathering my waning courage and strength for what I knew was coming. Brannagh turned; walking over to a table set to the side and carefully selected a braided whip with gleaming flecks of metal imbedded in the leather.

I swallowed hard as she handed it to her sibling and knew that Hybern sent them to do this on purpose. The torture was just to ensure I weakened enough to let down my mental shields that kept my mind and memories safe. Clenching my teeth, I swore to myself that I would not make a sound, that I would not let them see me show any signs of pain.

Tilting my head up, I let my eyes look up to the sky as it darkened to night, catching the first glimmers of starlight. I heard the sharp whistle of the whip as slashed through the air before I felt the first stab of fiery pain. Gritting my teeth, I let out a low breath before gasping as I felt something slam against my mental shields.

My eyes met Brannagh’s as she grinned and metal seemed to scrape viciously against my mind. Before I could recover, Dagdan was lashing out again, creating another line of fire down my spine. I could already feel blood trickling down my back and soaking into my dress.

I broke my promise eventually. My screams of agony echoed dully through the night.

 

Rhysand

Rhys felt like he was living his worst nightmare. He walked in slow circles on a forgotten balcony on the edge of his mountain palace. He couldn’t look at the library, or his rooms, or his dining area…not without thinking of her.

Swallowing hard, he let a burst of power escape him and watched without emotion as the furniture burst into tiny fragments. He wanted to destroy everything, rampage through the earth until he found every last person who’d touched Feyre, who’d hurt her. 

Azriel had banished him from the training grounds when he’d attempted to use physical training as a distraction. Rhys hadn’t protested…he knew he was barely in control of himself. He was a danger to himself and others.

They hadn’t found any clues about Hybern’s camp in weeks. Weeks of reports of raids and attacks by an army that seemed to disappear just as quickly as they arrived. Weeks of knowing that Feyre’s killers were continuing to breathe while she was….

Grief pulsed like a live thing in his chest and he forced his brain to focus on something else. Focus on his revenge.

He didn’t stop his pacing when he heard soft footsteps behind him. His friends had taken to checking up on him regularly, trying to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. It was a foolish thought. He wouldn’t allow himself to die until he killed every last one of Hybern’s forces. That was all the justice he could give her.

Amren’s voice was softer than usual but still held an edge of steel as she said, “Rhysand, you need to get some sleep.”

He grunted, “I’m fine. Go work on your translations.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. It was torture to look at his rooms, where her things still lay. To look at the bed she would never again share with him. His fists clenched and he felt more power begin to leak from him but he couldn’t summon enough energy to care.

Amren growled, “You are no good to anyone if you don’t get some rest and regain some of your control over your powers.”  
Whirling around, he snarled at the dragon-like creature, “I have no interest in your foolish little opinions. Leave me!”

Her quicksilver eyes flashed up at him for a moment before he felt something smash into the back of his head and his world went dark.

 

He dreamed he was back in Amarantha’s camp during the great war. At least, it felt like it was. Something about the camp was different and he couldn’t remember the two fae who tortured him. 

He let his body slump in the chains when they walked away, chatting loudly about what they’d eat for supper. His stomach yowled in protest. Summoning his flagging strength, he tilted his head up to the sky as the sun continued to sink. Some part of him tried to consider the burst of colors and how they could be used in a painting but he was so tired…

 

Rhysand came awake with a gasp, sitting up the bed he’d been placed on. His mind spun, trying to remember the dream even as it began to slip away from him. It’d felt like…Feyre.


	6. The Twins

Pain and I were old friends. I’d experienced it often in the woods as I struggle to bring home anything that would help us survive another day. I thought that the worst physical pain I could feel had already occurred when Amarantha had turned the Attor on me or when I’d seen the agony on Rhysand’s face just before out bond was broken.

The fates always seemed to prove me wrong.

There was a part of me that knew I deserved this. That every time the whip rose and fell, it was penance for the crimes I’d committed, for the horrors I’d done. Sometime I thought I felt the ghosts of the two fae I’d murdered looking on as Dagdan and Brannagh did their best to destroy everything that Rhysand had rebuilt.

For the first week, I’d forced myself to remain strong. Forced myself to not make a sound of protest or pain as they beat, whipped, and tried their best to break me. I was confident that it was only a matter of time before Rhys would come for me.

By week two, I was ready for even Tamlin to return. I hated him for everything he had done to me and my family, but I knew I could count on him to try and stop this. Dagdan and Brannagh had laughed merrily when they informed me that Hybern had extended his mission and Tamlin had agreed after hearing Lucien’s report of my thoroughly boring time at the camp.

I’d stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that. Why should it matter how many days I remained trapped and helpless against the twins’ onslaught?

It was getting harder and harder to keep my walls strong against the combined attacks of the twins. Especially when there was no end in sight.

I hung limply in the chains as Dagdan complained that his arm was beginning to tire. 

Brannagh laughed coldly, “Come, let’s eat. You’re working yourself to death, brother.”

“Hybern is becoming impatient with your antics, mongrel. You’re going to force us to become unpleasant.” He lifted my head by my hair to whisper in my ear and I had to fight my nausea. His gravelly voice grated against my senses. 

Spitting blood out of my mouth, I cursed at them; finding a creative use for their mother and a nearby donkey.

Brannagh took one of her lethally long knives and sank it deep into my wrist under the manacle and I gave a hoarse scream as my nerves sang out in distress. My breath came out in heaving gasps as I fought down the urge to keep screaming and never stop.

She smiled as she twisted the knife slightly and I through back my head in agony, weakly pulling against the chains. I could feel the oily presence of Dagdan’s powers as he pressed against the walls of my mind.

Shaking my head weakly, I refused to let him find purchase and Brannagh sighed, “Guess we will have to begin again tomorrow…Isn’t it such a blessing to heal so quickly?”

I gasped as she yanked out the knife and ran it gently along my cheek, “We’ll be back soon.”

I watched them walk away from their little torture clearing and let out a painful breath. My body throbbed with each heartbeat and I could feel insects crawling along my mutilated back as dusk settled over the campsite.

“Rhysand. Cassian. Mor. Amren. Azriel. Nesta. Elain.” I whispered their names like a prayer, over and over. Trying to return to better, safer days, but the memories were already starting to blur. I wondered if I’d only imagined the happiness I’d felt with Rhysand, with all of them.

Turning my head up to the sky, I tried to imagine what Rhys was doing now. That he was safe and warm and planning how to rescue me from this place.

I must have dozed off because the sound of soft footsteps startled me awake. Instead of the familiar hated forms of the daemati twins, I was surprised to see Hybern standing there, surveying their handiwork.

I’m sure I must look quite different from when they first brought me here. The dress Tamlin had provided had been shredded long ago and my modesty was only ensured through a dense layer of blood and grime. Raising my chin defiantly, I bit out, “What do you want?”

“You’ve surprised me, Feyre,” He said simply, “I did not expect you to hold out this long. Brannagh and Dagdan must be beside themselves with frustration.”

I laughed bitterly, “I’m glad I could amuse you all during my stay here.”

Dagdan and Brannagh walked up behind him and settled themselves comfortably in some of the cushioned chairs, purposely letting my see the food I was being denied. I ignored my stomach’s protests and focused on the king, “You realize it’s only a matter of time before Rhysand rips you to pieces while I watch.” I sneered at the two twins, “Perhaps he’ll show you the power of a true daemati and have you disembowel each other just for fun.”

They laughed at this and I frowned, feeling like there was something I was missing.

Hybern stepped closer, “Poor dear, I’ve made sure that Rhysand won’t be coming for you this time.”

Ice flooded my veins as fear and fury struggled for control, “What did you do to him? He would never abandon me.”

Cruel hands stroked down my arms, pressing cruelly against the would from Brannagh’s knife, “Rhysand is a stubborn High Lord and annoyingly powerful in his own way,” he said casually, “so I sent him a little gift to ensure that he believed you were beyond saving.”

My mouth opened and closed in confusion and horror. What did they—

Hybern sighed at the question in my eyes, “It was so sad to see his reaction to the body I sent. It was far too mangled to be able to recognize more than your delightful armor and that beautiful ring he gifted you with…”

A dull roaring filled my ears. He wasn’t coming. He wasn’t coming to get me. No one was coming. They thought I was dead.

My chest grew tight and I gasped for air, trying desperately to regain control. This couldn’t be happening. No, he would never leave me…not so long as he thought I could be saved.

Something in me seemed to break and the pain of Brannagh’s invasion into my mind barely registered against the sound of my heart breaking. It was almost a relief to lose control. Almost a relief to distance myself from my body.

When I stood stiffly, freed from the chains that had contained me for so long, I felt Brannagh settle herself firmly in my mind like a great spider.

“Now,” she said through my lips, “let’s go visit the Night Court.”


	7. A New Nightmare

Brannagh settled into my mind like an oily spider. It felt like her presence seeped into my soul, contaminating everything she touched. It was somehow worse than what I’d imagined from the few times Rhysand had shown his skills in the mind. This was no flirtatious demonstration; it was a violation of the very core of my being.

I could feel her moving around in my mind, riffling through my memories for useful information. Desperately, I began to build walls around my most precious memories and any that could 

She stretched my arms in front of her, feeling the weakness in my limbs, “It will take a few days before she is healed enough to be capable of fighting,” she said, her body and mine speaking eerily in unison.

Brannagh made no attempt to spare me from the pain her movements and I writhed helplessly within my own mind.

“We can remove the curse now so her magic is released under Brannagh’s control, “ Hybern said casually to Dagdan, as though they were discussing the weather. “This has already delayed our progress enough. I’m needed in the Summer Court.” He turned and walked away briskly.

Dagdan spoke to Brannagh, “I’ll begin preparations for our journey tomorrow. Make sure you have complete control.” I shivered when I realized that they were speaking through their link and I could hear it through Brannagh’s presence in my head.

Brannagh laughed silkily, “She was already broken before we began—this is child’s play.”

Part of me flinched at the truth of her words. It was hard to tell what had finally ripped apart the still healing pieces of my soul. Was it the first knife I’d plunged into that fae’s heart? Or the knowledge that Rhys wouldn’t be coming to save me this time? That he wasn’t looking for me.

 

At first light, we began the long process of winnowing into the Night Court. We traveled light and they forced me to carry most of load despite my still healing injuries. My back was a mass of raw meat and my muscles trembled with each step. Only Brannagh’s control over my mind kept me from collapsing in the dirt.

Why Hybern hadn’t killed me became clear when we reached the edge of the Day Court. The twins needed my presence to get through the barriers that Rhysand had so carefully created to protect his people. It was devastating to see how completely Rhys had trusted me to do the same. Nothing stopped us as we moved further into his territory.

I moved fitfully against the barriers within my own mind that prevented me from being able to control my body and my powers. With Hybern’s curse lifted, I could feel the kernel of starlight and power flowing through me but Brannagh ensured that I couldn’t access it. 

They stopped early each night, commanding my body to sleep in order to speed up the healing process and to ensure I was unable to fight back against Brannagh when she slept. Each night I fought as hard as I could against the compulsion before succumbing to the darkness. Each night, I was able to hold out a little longer.

I spent my days trying to hide as much useful information from Brannagh as I could. I also listened hard to each of their conversations for anything useful for the war. All I managed to learn was that Brannagh hated the bold and they were much more involved with each other than any brother or sister should be.

Each time we winnowed closer to the Night Court’s stronghold, my panic and longing grew. Rhysand, Rhysand! He was so close and he didn’t even know I was alive. I could only imagine the horror and agony he’d experienced when they’d brought the body to him…

I’m coming for you, Rhys. I’ll always come back for you.

Brannagh laughed out loud, “She’s still trying to talk to the High Lord. Isn’t that sweet?” She walked closer to me and forced me to look at her, “From what I hear, he’s already moving on…”

I tried to pull my head away, but she wouldn’t let me, “Rhys would never do that!”

“Poor loyal mongrel…You’re forgetting Rhysand’s delightful past. There are so many females who have been waiting for this opportunity sine the fall of Amarantha. After all,” she said coyly, “once a whore, always a whore.”

Rage rose in me like a tidal wave, nearly choking me with its intensity. Brannagh took a step back and I saw a look of alarm and surprise flicker across her face a moment before I saw the water wolf appear by my side. 

Fighting her control, I took a shaky step forward with a snarl of triumph. Brannaugh flinched and moved out of my reach, renewing her attacks within my mind. Blood trickled from one of my nostrils but I refused to let her stop me. She. Had. To. Die.

A roar ripped from my chest as I channeled my magic towards the daemati but was cut short as a vicious blow struck me from behind. My body collapsed painfully into the snow and I tried desperately to continue moving forward. This was my chance! I couldn’t let her roll me again…

Despite all my efforts, darkness swallowed me as my strength finally gave way.

 

I woke up to the sensation of being cradled in a familiar couch and the scent of home. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed enjoying the relief that the nightmare was over. I was back in the mountain cabin with Rhysand. Surrounded by my paintings and memories of my mate bond, I was finally home. I was safe. 

I reached for the mate bond and froze as I realized there was only silence.

“It’s cute watching the hope die in her time and time again,” Brannagh said from a few feet away and I felt the wash of her power move through my mind, taking my will with it. “Such a nice little cabin too. Thanks for showing us where it was…it’ll make the perfect place to invade the Night Court from.

My eyes opened and looked over to where Brannagh sat across from me with Dagdan standing behind her like a hulking shadow. I sat up stiffly, Brannagh’s brow furrowed with effort, “ That was not nice, Feyre. Did you think you could get away with that?” she asked irritably.

She stopped at the sound of banging at the door and my heart leapt in my throat. Rhysand? Mor? I tried to rush to the door but Brannagh kept me in place as it burst open.

And there he was. Standing in the doorway with snow sweeping in from the winds outside and night surrounding him like a cloak. Rhysand.

I froze, heart in my throat at the whispers of night and magic that curled around me. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the scent of jasmine and citrus and waited for the tears to pass before getting to my feet, Dagdan and Brannagh forgotten.

He stood, stiff and angry but with his trademark smirk curling one side of his mouth, “Hello, Feyre darling.”

Rhysand looked more haggard than I’d ever seen him, worse than when he’d been forced under the mountain, worse than when he continued to let me return to the Spring Court. 

Suddenly it was easier to breathe and my heart seemed to race and sing, Rhys, Rhys! The world around me seemed to come into focus, colors brightened and I could see my next painting clearly. I’d call it Joy.

I stumbled forward and he met me halfway in a rush of warm skin and true happiness and suddenly I couldn’t stop crying, “Rhys. Rhys, you’re here. You came.” I sobbed, whispering his name like a prayer.

Gently he pulled me away from his body and tilted my chin up so he could look me over. A flicker of darkness entered his eyes as he whispered, “Feyre darling…how long have you been working against me?”

I opened my mouth to refuse and try to explain but he just shook his head, leaning in closer so his lips brushed my ear, “I’ll never forgive you, Feyre.”

Then he stabbed me.


	8. Into the Night Court

Shock had me reeling back, masking the pain of the Illyrian blade that was deep in my gut for a few seconds. I coughed, gasping at the white hot fire that radiated from the wound.

“Rhys…what are you—“ I sputtered weakly, falling to my knees.

He strolled forward, making no move to help me. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he looked at me with the same expression he had in the Court of Nightmares. I stumbled back instinctively, something was wrong with him. 

“Rhys,” I tried again, “they’re controlling me. I would never…” My voice trailed off as he shook his head and gave me a grim smile.

“You led them here. You led them right to us! Velaris is already in flames!” His voice seemed to pierce me deeper than the knife.

“No…I would never let them do that!” My voice was weakening as my blood spilled across the floor.

Rhys crouched down in front of me and his purple eyes finally met mine. Hope flared in me, this was all just a mistake. Without our mate bond, he must have gone crazy thinking I was dead or that I betrayed him. His face was heart breakingly familiar and I reached up to gently cup his cheek, “Please, Rhys…it’s me.”

He smiled at me briefly and let his hands trail across my cheeks and I let my eyes flutter closed, breathing in his presence. They flew open only a few moments later when I felt his hands suddenly tighten around my chin and tangle in my hair.

Rhysand sighed, “I should have just let you die Under the Mountain…”

With an eerie sense of déjà vu, I felt my neck snap and my body slowly sink to the ground. This time though there was no link to drag myself back to the light. No Rhys screaming for me to be okay, trying to save me. Only the face of the man I love looking down on me as I lost my hold on consciousness.

 

Only a few moments later, I opened my eyes to the same familiar ceiling and couch below me. Gasping and coughing, I looked over to find the cruel twins watching me with amusement.

“It…it wasn’t real…” my voice was flat and emotionless.

Brannagh bared her teeth at me, “This was just a taste of what will happen if you continue to fight against us.”

I shivered, still in shock from the horrific images she’d forced me to experience. I’d never even left the couch. How could I figure out what was real and what was another hallucination?

Brannagh poured more of herself into my mind and I watched, detached, as her body seemed to go limp at the same time. She kept my mind and body firmly in her grip and pushed my psyche deeper into my mind. Still stunned and in pain, I wasn’t strong enough to push her away again although I fought her for every inch.

My body stood, stretching languidly and walked over to Dagdan. He looked worried for some reason and my hand ran gently down his arm, “Don’t be such a worrier, brother.”

Dagdan pulled me forward into his embrace and pressed a kiss to my cheek. The sensation was abhorrent to me and I bucked against Brannagh’s hold as bile rose in my throat. I would never allow another male to touch me willingly. I refused to be a conduit for their disgusting relationship.

My mouth quirked up into an unnatural smile, “We discussed this. We must be sure that she doesn’t escape my hold again.”

“I don’t like you going to the Night Court alone…” he grumbled.

I felt myself tsk him gently, “Don’t worry. No one has ever managed to push me from their minds. It was just a fluke that she surprised me once—it won’t happen again. Besides,” she continued, “I need you to protect my body.”

Dagdan looked unconvinced, but Brannagh directed my body to change into the fighting leathers and weapons that the cabin’s spells provided. My body seemed to move like a marionette for its puppet master. I couldn’t even twitch without her permission.

Once I was dressed and armed, I took the dark cloak Dagdan offered and pulled it on, hiding my weapons. Standing at the doorway, my mouth moved of its own accord, “Stay here. I’ll return with the Book of Breathings as quickly as I can manage. Be ready to move quickly when I get back.”

He nodded and pressed a hard kiss to my lips that had me thrashing again inside the prison of my mind. Then we were moving quickly into the freezing snow and wind that had us shivering despite the warm cloak.

As soon as we were beyond the cabin’s wards, we winnowed forward, becoming smoke and ash once again. We moved quickly, confidently. The twins knew they had the advantage of surprise and the hesitation that any member of the Night Court would have if they saw the identity of the person beneath the cloak. Brannagh used my memories to move us safely across the lands of Night, easily avoiding the patrols that continued to search for signs of Hybern’s presence.

Little did they know a true monster was already in their midst.

Despite the situation, my heart leapt at the sight of the lights of Velaris below us. It looked like a glittering jewel in the evening light. I wished I could look up to the sky and witness the glory of a true night sky. Even from this distance, I could hear the soft strains of music flowing up from the Rainbow.

Memories hit me like a blow. The sounds of a beautiful lullaby amidst the dark, cold cells of Amarantha’s court. A hidden promise of a better future. 

Carefully, I tucked those precious memories away from Brannagh’s manipulations along with the rest of my memories of Rhysand and our too-short time as mates. She didn’t deserve to experience that happiness.

Walking quietly, we moved into the outside of town, navigating by the images she’d taken from when Rhysand had flown me over the city. My heart hammered in my chest as the streets began to look familiar. I even recognized a few of the shopkeepers, although the hood of my cloak kept us safely anonymous.

Brannagh didn’t hesitate as we wove through the crowds and I could feel her pace increasing. I wondered if that was her intent or if my body was responding to my need to get to the town house. To see my family.

I had to know that everyone was okay. That they were able to save Cassian’s wings and that Azriel had recovered from the poison in his body. That Nesta and Elain were safely recovering from whatever the Cauldron did to them. That Rhys was safe and hadn’t done anything stupid when he saw the body.

For the first time in a long time, I prayed to the old gods. Hoping that he hadn’t been driven mad or allowed the aching loneliness of losing his mate drag him under. That the vision Brannagh and Dagdan created was nothing more than a scene from their sick imaginations.

Rhysand’s town house finally came into view and it was shocking to see it looking exactly as it had the last time I visited. Tears burned behind my eyes, but Brannagh’s control kept my expression stony and my body relaxed.

We walked forward, by passing the front door to walk around to the side of the building, checking to see if there were any lights on or signs of life. The house was still so we winnowed inside, looking carefully around before moving up to the library. 

Our footsteps were silent as we checked each room in the house. The house seemed empty without the loud laughter and jokes of Rhysand’s court. They must be with their troops or at the palace of the Night Court. I wondered if Nuala and Cerridwen moved with the group.

Frustrated, Brannagh slammed shut one of Rhys’ desk drawers and looked around the room again, “Either they’ve shielded the Book or its been moved.”

I grinned in triumph, rattling against the bars of the cage in my mind. They would not be so foolish as to leave the Book just lying around without any safe guards.

“You’re right,” Brannagh said as though responding to my thoughts, “It’s probably with that freak Rhysand keeps as a pet.”

It took me a moment to realize she was referring to Amren and I had to resist the urge to laugh. Brannagh had just signed her death warrant if Amren ever caught wind of that.

We winnowed away from the house once more, heading for Amren’s apartment. This time, it appeared we had missed Amren by a few moments. There was a cup of blood sitting forgotten on her table that hadn’t coagulated yet. The room smelled like smoke from the candles she’d extinguished when she left.

We walked carefully through the room, scanning for any signs of the Book of Breathings. Brannagh paused beside a notebook filled with messy handwriting in a language I didn’t recognize. Underneath a stack of paper, I saw the edge of one of my sketches peaking out revealing a rough sketch of Rhysand, Cass, Azriel, and Mor laughing at a snide comment Amren made at the House of Winds. Delight, I’d called it.

“It’s not here, “ Brannagh muttered to herself, “We’ll have to check the House of Winds.”

You can’t winnow there, I replied irritably. She responded by summoning the magic that had massive black wings bursting from my back in a mirror image of Illyrian wings. My back burned at the extra weight on the sensitive skin, but they functioned well enough.

Pushing open the balcony window, we took a deep breath of the cool night air before launching ourselves out into the night.


	9. Chapter 8

Rhysand:

Rhys woke with a start and clutched at his throbbing head. Mor must have slipped something into his drink again to force him to cease his constant pacing and raging around the Night Court and House of Winds. 

Laying back against the cushions of the chaise lounge on the balcony of his palatial estate, he tried to summon the strength to stand and check on the reports of Hybern’s movements. Tried to summon any vestiges of hope that Amren had finally discovered something in the Book of Breathings that would be able to stop Hybern and that thrice damned Cauldron.

He felt…empty. Empty and worn down, like a plant desperately seeking water in the midst of a drought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to continue like this, using vengeance as his only motivation to keep breathing, to keep moving.

…when the legends get written, I didn't want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines. I want my future offspring to know that I was there, and that I fought against her at the end, even if I couldn't do anything useful….I didn't want you to fight alone. Or die alone.

His words were like stinging flies, darting around his brain and driving him mad. He should have left her in the Spring Court with Tamlin. He could have entered into his mind and brought forward the man that she’d voluntarily walked into hell to retrieve. He’d been selfish, driven mad by the possibilities hidden in a few stolen moments in Amarantha’s court.

As soon as he ripped Hybern’s spine from his twitching corpse and scattered the pieces of his sorry flesh to the wounds, he could find peace. He would search for his mate once again in the great unknown and hope that her soul would wait for him until then.

A slight shift in the air behind him was all that announced the arrival of his spy master. Rhys sat up and glanced over, “Any new reports?”

Azriel looked as good as he had before the mortal injury he’d received at Hybern’s fortress. He’d focus on little else besides ensuring Cassian was healing properly and hunting down the whereabouts of Feyre. Rhys knew Az blamed himself for Feyre’s death, that if he’d found her sooner she might have survived. Before…Rhys would have reassured his friend that he’d done all he could do, but now he just waited to hear the news that had Azriel looking so troubled.

Azriel spoke quietly, choosing his words with care, “Nualla and Cerridwen have returned with a report from the Town House….” He hesitated and Rhys arched an eyebrow in silent question.

“They claim to have seen a woman enter the house and search it without taking anything.” Azriel continued briskly, “I believed that this stranger must be an agent of Hybern seeking the Book. When the pair went to follow the agent, the trespasser flew away…on Illyrian wings.”

Rhysand stopped, processing the new information. Had one of the Illyrian generals betrayed him to Hybern? It wouldn’t be a shock to hear some would turn towards the promise of the power Rhysand effectively kept from them.

Getting to his feet in a ripple of muscle, he moved towards the edge of the balcony, “If they are searching the townhouse, then they must be looking for the Book of Breathings. Send a message to Amren informing her to be on her guard.”

Summoning his massive black wings, he said, “They’ll head to the House of Winds next. I intend to meet them.”

Perhaps this thief might be able to shed some light on where Hybern was hiding and what he wanted the Book for.

Feyre:

Flying out into the night of Velaris was heartbreaking in its familiarity. I felt like at any moment my High Lord would come sweeping by with some teasing comment that would have me cursing at him and trying to hide my smile. The city glittered like a thousand tiny lights as we climbed up, up into the night sky.

The House of Winds appeared the same as it always had and we could see lights shining out of several rooms. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. Were they laughing and talking like we used to? Did they grieve for the false body in my grave?

My whole body seemed to throb with the intense need to see them, to finally hold Rhys in my arms again. Right there. They were right there.

Brannagh directed us above the building, landing in the craggy rocks it had been carved out of. She appeared to be debating how we could slip into the building and search for the Book undetected.

“You honestly think they won’t know the instant you step through the door?” I whispered to her mockingly.

“Silence,” she muttered, forcing me back, deeper into my own mental prison.

“I can’t wait to see what Rhys will do to you when they catch you…maybe you’ll get lucky and Azriel or Cassian may reach your brother first,” I said cheerfully, “As soon as they rip you away from my mind, I will repeat each of your kindnesses to you and your twin tenfold….I have so many plans already.”

Brannagh ignored, carefully moving my body down the slope to the open windows on the edges of the house that weren’t lit from within. I knew there were a couple bedrooms and offices for the inner court to use when they needed and it looked like she was trying to slip in through one of them. My wings disappeared in a soft exhalation of smoke and magic and she even pulled off the cloak so it wouldn’t catch on anything.

Before Hybern’s attack, the House had only a few wards to keep people from winnowing in and giving alerts to strangers attempting to enter without invitation. I wondered if Rhys or Azriel had added to their defenses once the mortal queens gave away the location of Velaris. I hoped so.

We moved confidently into the first bedroom, quickly rifling through the scant belongings and continuing on. I was curious to see several weapons scattered around. The familiar scent of sweat and fighting leathers indicated the room was being used by Cassian and I took heart in the lack of blood or bandages. He must be healing quickly then.

It was agony to know that if I could just shout or call out mentally, they would come for me. They would rain vengeance down on Brannagh and Dagdan and eventually Hybern for what they’d done to me. Instead my body and control had been ripped from me to be used against everyone I loved.

We slipped into the hallway, silently padding into the next room. Brannagh froze when the sounds of a soft conversation drifted down from the main room. Cassian! Amren! I shouted desperately for them, but Brannagh remained carefully out of their sight.

“…he’s getting worse…”

“—need to stop this…”

I caught pieces of their conversation as Brannagh quickly looked through the room. They had to be talking about Rhysand. I needed to get back to my mate. I didn’t care that the mate bond had been torn apart—I had to make sure Rhys was okay. 

There was a sudden throb of magic from another part of the house and Brannagh and I both froze, feeling the power move through the air. I felt my face shift into her triumphant grin even as I desperately wished this mission was nothing more than a failure. My bizarre link to the Cauldron and the Book might cause the downfall of the Night Court and their allies.

We walked carefully into the hallway, needing to cross the large meeting room to follow the Book’s call. Cassian and Amren were sitting near the fire, quietly talking amongst themselves.

“Mor has been sneaking sleeping potions into his drink, but that won’t work for much longer,” Amren said softly.

Brannagh used the shadows to move us into the edge of the room while I bashed against the walls of my mental prison, trying to at least distract her enough for her to make a mistake.

“Once we find Hybern’s main camp, we’ll be able to move in and engage their forces. We’ve discussed bringing the Bone Carver in as an ally,” Cassian replied.

We moved further into the room, using the darkness to our advantage. Halfway there now.

“The Bone Carver is too risky…”

We were at the edge of the room now and Brannagh let herself breath a little easier. Turn around, damn it! I raged inside my own body, trapped.

Quickly following the Book’s thread of power, we opened a door to the right and quietly shut it behind us.

Hello, liar, the Book whispered.

“Hello,” Brannagh whispered from my mouth.

The Book seemed to pause, scanning my body to understand why something felt wrong. Finally someone knew I was being controlled—too bad the Book was just as chaotically evil as the daemati twins.

Brannagh moved closer to the book and began to reach for it reverently.

“Don’t. Move.” The low growl behind us made chills run up my spine. Looks like Amren was smart enough to lay a few traps of her own around this treasure. Clever little dragon beast.

We spun to face Amren and Cassian with a lethal looking blade in his hand. They froze, confusion and surprise moving over their faces and making them hesitate. 

“Feyre?” Cassian whispered, hope lacing his tone and I felt my heart break a little more.

Brannagh moved in a burst of speed, snatching the Book of Breathings and barreling through the two stunned fae. Cassian instinctively moved out of the way, not wanting to hurt me and Brannagh clipped Amren hard in the head with my elbow as she moved past her.

Sprinting now, we raced towards the open balcony and summoned our wings in a burst of magic. Without hesitating or glancing back, we leapt off the railing and into the cool night air. I heard Cassian shout my name from behind us and I knew it would only take him a few moments to come after us.

You’ll never be able to outrun them, I said as she pumped our wings in a desperate attempt to gain speed, I’m an awful flier.

Brannagh snarled in response, but didn’t let up her relentless push to move beyond the wards so she could winnow back to the cabin.

When the blow came there was no warning. Cassian dropped like a stone out of the sky and knocked us hard against the cliff face. Brannagh forced the pain away from her own mind, making me bear the brunt of it. White hot agony battled against my own desperate need to keep her from hurting Cassian.

Taking advantage of Cassian’s desire to keep from hurting me seriously, Brannagh pulled one of the knives from my leathers and sliced a deep gouge across the forearm he hastily threw up to protect his chest. We circled each other, looking for a weakness or a way to make an escape.

Cassian remained focused on us, moving confidently through the night. I was surprised that he didn’t make a move to incapacitate us or calling for reinforcements. Then I realized that he was just waiting for his High Lord and I felt hope swell in my chest. Hybern hadn’t touched the mental link between the inner court. Rhys was coming!

As if I summoned him, a dark shadow fell from the sky, landing gracefully beside Cassian. Inky darkness surrounded him like smoke in the dim light of the nearby city. He looked powerful and more ancient than I’d ever seen him. Violence and barely contained rage poured off him in waves as his violet eyes locked on mine from a face haggard from countless sleepless nights. 

The High Lord of Night was a being of terrible power and heartache in that moment as his eyes scanned hungrily over my body, as though he could find the answers to my disappearance and the body that had been delivered to him, grieved by him. He stepped forward, not bothering with any weapons. He knew that I would never willingly harm him—unfortunately Brannagh had no problem taking advantage of his naiveté. 

Brannagh moved backwards instinctively, edging towards the edge of the cliff, but I couldn’t focus on her escape plans. My whole being seemed to be struggling to move closer to him, to touch him, call out to him.

“Feyre?” he whispered hoarsely, taking another step towards me.

I’m here! I shouted desperately, I’m here!

Cold calculation filtered through my connection with Brannagh and she slowly let her hands fall to her side in apparent surrender. My voice trembled slightly with her words as Rhys moved closer, “Rhysand…” 

Painful relief crossed his face even as I screamed at him that it was a trick, it wasn’t me speaking to him. His rough voice made my heart flutter with a painful mixture of happiness and fear for his safety.

“I thought you were dead…how are you here?” he choked out, almost within our reach now.

Brannagh tightened her hold on the knife at our side and gave him a shaky smile, “I escaped from Hybern. I knew he was after the Book of Breathings so I wanted to move it to a safer place before he sent someone to retrieve it.” Her words had enough truth in them to make them seem plausible, but Rhys frowned, stopping a few feet away from us.

“Why didn’t you come to us for help?” Suspicion began to lace his voice, “Why would you try to attack Amren and Cassian?”

Ha! I thought triumphantly at Brannagh, my mate is no fool.

He’s not your mate anymore, she spat back and I hissed at her angrily.

He’ll always be mine. I knew it in my soul. It was the only thing I was sure of now.

Licking our lips, Brannagh shrugged weakly, “I didn’t think you’d let me hide the book.”

There was a long pause before Rhys slowly gave me a wicked grin that didn’t reach his eyes, “Now I know you’re an imposter…my Feyre would never ask for my permission to do something foolish.”

True fury warred a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked down at us, “Who are you?”

We flicked our tongue over our lips nervously. Cassian moved closer, weapons at the ready while Rhysand continued to stare at us. I felt a moment of shock when Brannagh and I felt wicked claws scrape at the barriers of our minds. Looks like there was another daemati in the game.

Panic flickered over Brannagh’s mind and before I could react, she threw the knife as hard as she could at Rhys and jumped over the cliff into the night air once again. I heard a bellow of rage and pain behind us that made my fragile control slip.

That. Bitch. Hurt. My. Mate.

With renewed energy, I slammed into her mind, ripping and clawing at the spidery tendrils of power that crisscrossed my mental world. Brannagh was so focused on the threat behind her that she’d forgotten about me and I felt her control slip for a moment.  
I yanked on my magic, dissolving into mist and shadow and winnowing higher up in the sky so we wouldn’t risk crashing into the mountain. There was a moment of triumph before Brannagh rebounded and attacked me again, wrestling for control. Now that we were out of range of the House of Winds, she began trying to winnow further away from Rhys and Cassian even as I tried to return to them anytime I was able to access my power.

We were free falling now—too absorbed in our internal war to be able to focus on flying. Our wings flapped uselessly, trying instinctively to right ourselves. We screamed in rage at each other and I could hear it echoing through the night sky.

Once I felt the rough grip of one of the males as they attempted to recapture us, but Brannagh winnowed us away in the next instance. We were moving so quickly and chaotically that I worried that Cass and Rhys wouldn’t be able to keep up. They were still trying to capture us alive and didn’t want to risk harming us before Azriel could question us.

“I’m going to take pleasure in stripping the skin from your flesh, you mongrel bitch!,” Brannagh shrieked as she fended off my attacks, “Now that I have the Book, Hybern will let us do whatever we want to you.”

No, I thought to myself desperately, I couldn’t go back to that clearing in their camp. I wouldn’t survive more weeks of endless torture. I would not be their victim any longer.

Below us, the terrain changed to snowy forests and jagged peaks. I couldn’t make out any landmarks, but I knew I couldn’t allow her to return to the cabin that had once been my refuge but was now tainted. My magic was so weak by now, I knew that I wouldn’t have another chance to rid myself of the daemati.

With my last bit of energy, I ripped the last of her mind from mine and slammed my shields shut. My body was finally my own and my power flickered weakly in my chest, exhausted by the abuse and erratic fighting. My muscled throbbed, reminding me that I was still not fully healed from their torture. I felt the wind blow through my hair as it trailed up into the night, next to my useless wings.

I was too tired, too hurt to right myself or attempt to winnow again. Below me, the tall pines of the northern mountains rushed to meet me. I closed my eyes and let my mind fill with images of Rhysand, comforting me even as I fell.

My mate would ensure that I was avenged, a small part of me whispered, Rhys would kill them and take a long time doing it. It was okay to let go. It would be okay to end it.

My mate filled my mind and I could see him still in my memories, "Don't you ever think that," Rhysand hissed, his eyes livid. "Not for one damned moment.” 

I knew he was right. That he would never forgive me for giving up—I couldn’t let them defeat me. Couldn’t let them win.

I was still thinking of him when I crashed into the earth.


	10. Interrogation

I could remember the sensation of smashing into the earth, of bones crunching, and my magic trying desperately to heal me enough to survive. When I blinked my eyes open, the spectacular sky above me proved I was still in the Night Court. Some time must have passed since I’d crash-landed because the sky was fully dark now and most of the moonlight was covered by shifting clouds.

The cold snow had burned against my skin as I tried to get to my feet. I wasn’t sure where I was and I had to be sure I was far enough away from the cabin to avoid recapture by Dagdan and Brannagh. My magic was nearly nonexistent—the weeks of torture and starvation along with the fall had wiped out all my reserves.

Mindlessly I crawled forward, forcing myself to keep moving. I wished desperately for the warm cloak that Brannagh had cast off at the House of Winds as the bitterly cold night winds tore through my thin clothing. Obviously the twins weren’t concerned with my well being when they prepared for the infiltration of the Night Court.

Shivering and aching from a number of injuries both old and new, I forced myself to walk in the direction I thought Velaris might be. It was slow going. I kept needing to stop to apply pressure to a nasty wound in my side that kept reopening. I knew that I was making an easy trail for someone to follow, but I prayed that I could find a safe place to stop before that happened.

My breath came out in white puffs before being pulled away by the bitter wind. I wasn’t sure if the blood seeping from my wounds was clotting or freezing, but I tried not to focus on that thought. Tucking my hands under my arms, I moved doggedly forward. The cold seemed to seep into my bones and had the added benefit of making me numb to the pain radiating from my injuries.

With each step I took, I chanted the names of the people who were waiting for me—who had to know that Hybern hadn’t killed me. That I’d fought to return to them. 

Rhysand. Cassian. Azriel. Mor. Amren. Nesta. Elain.

Safe in my pocket the Book whispered along with me, You’re going to die soon, little liar.

No. I would not die here, I thought fiercely, not so close to home.

They won’t find your body until the snows melt, it cackled, your mate will have to start stacking the bodies in your grave.

A branch hidden by the snow caught my foot and I stumbled hard into the icy snow. Gasping in pain and exhaustion, I struggled to get back to my feet. I’d stopped shivering now and wished desperately for Beron’s flames to warm my numb fingers. I was so tired…

Somehow I ended up on my back, staring up into the night sky as the snow slowly drifted down around me. It was peaceful, all sounds dimmed under the blanket of gently falling snow. Even the cursed Book fell silent. I was feeling a little warmer now but I couldn’t summon the willpower to start walking again. Maybe if I just slept for a little while, I could begin walking again in the morning…

Above me, I imagined that I could see the outline of dark wings and a familiar figure swooping down to land next to my broken body. I smiled faintly at the warm arms that wrapped around me a moment before we were in the air once more. For the first time in weeks, I began to feel safe and at peace. My eyes fluttered closed and I let my body finally relax and slip into unconsciousness.

 

The soft scrape of wood against stone startled me awake. Blearily, I looked up at the plain walls of a simply furnished room. There were no windows and the few pieces of furniture were bolted to the floor. Frowning as I tried to piece together what had happened, I slowly sat up. I was getting really tired of waking up in strange rooms, I thought to myself irritably. Although considering what had happened before I blacked out, it was probably a blessing. 

Looking down, I could see my injuries had been carefully cleaned and bandaged although I remained in my dirty leathers. My body was still screaming at me to lay down and stop moving, but I couldn’t risk being more vulnerable to my captors.

It was clear that I was being held in some sort of cell even if the accommodations were far more comfortable than Hybern’s camp. Padding across the floor, I banged on the door and shouted, “I need to speak to whoever is in charge here!”

Silence.

Growling, I ducked my shoulder and slammed into the heavy wood door. I had to know who was keeping me here. Had to know I wasn’t back in another nightmare.

I’d been so focused on breaking down the door that I stumbled when it suddenly opened. Straightening, I looked up into the familiar face of the spymaster and shadow singer of the Night Court.

The wave of affection and relief was almost overwhelming as I moved toward him, “Az!”

Azriel held up a hand and I stopped my forward motion, looking at him quizzically, “What’s wrong?”

He gestured to the bed, “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Slowly, I moved to do what he said, barely controlling the happiness and confusion that I felt. “Where is Rhys?” I asked, frowning.

“I told him not to come down here. He is not being…rational.”

Concern for my mate overwhelmed me, “Why are you keeping me down here? I need to see him.” I stood again, nervous energy making it impossible to just sit there while Rhys still didn’t know what had happened to me.

Azriel’s face was a mask of cool indifference as he pulled a knife from his belt and began to toy with it. Truth Teller, my mind supplied. His eyes never left mine, “Sit down. If you answer my questions truthfully, we will return you to your allies without harming you.”

It was a lie and we both knew it. I ran a hand through my golden brown hair, wincing as my fingers snagged on a knot, “Az, it’s me. My home is here.”

He ignored that, “Why did you attempt to steal the Book of Breathings?”

Instinctively I reached for the pocket that Brannagh had put the Book into, but it was empty. My weapons were gone as well. Understanding finally dawned on me and I looked at him, horrified, “You’re interrogating me. You think I’m your enemy,” my voice was flat with shock.

One dark eyebrow lifted slightly, “Why else would you try to steal the Book and attack members of the Night Court?”

“That wasn’t me!” I growled.

“We all saw what you did. I just need to know why.”

I took a breath, “I need to see Rhysand.” 

Az shook his head, “You don’t get to make demands. Why does Hybern want the Book?” he asked again.

Throwing up my hands, I began to pace, “Rhys is the only one who can prove I’m not working for Hybern. I need to see him.”

Azriel stood and began to walk to the door, “I’ll return when you are ready to talk.”

I tried to rush towards the door, but he hit me with a blast of energy that sent me flying across the room in a painful heap. By the time I got to my feet, the door slammed closed and I could hear the click of the lock slamming into place.


	11. The High Lord

Rhysand:

Rhys could feel his control slipping with each moment. It’d been two days since they discovered the thief in Amren’s rooms. The thief who’d looked like Feyre was nothing but another torture orchestrated by Hybern. At least, that’s what he’d told himself after he found her battered body in the mountains that surrounded the Night court.

Just another bit of magic by the Cauldron designed to make him suffer. His Feyre was gone. His beautiful, courageous, tempermental mate was dead and in the tomb he’d so carefully built for her. A tomb he never intended to hold vigil over.

This deception was just another sin Hybern would pay for when Rhysand marched his armies to meet him. The last several weeks had been a whirlwind of meetings and messages going back and forth to the other High Lords. All except Tamlin, obviously—Rhys had special plans for him. Plans he carefully made when he couldn’t sleep in his empty bed because it still smelled like her and it hurt too much to realize her scent was beginning to fade.

“You’re going to wear a path in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Mor said dryly from her position beside the map of Prythian stretched across his desk.

He ignored her. The rest of his friends had begun to stay with him to ensure that he didn’t do anything stupid. They tried to pretend like they were just hanging out with him like old times but he saw the looks they gave each other when they thought he wasn’t looking. He just couldn’t summon enough energy to care anymore.

All he seemed capable of doing was planning his attack on Hybern’s forces. When even that would not console him, he went down into the Court of Nightmares and allowed the rage to seep out of him in a violent storm against any who displeased him.

Try as he might, his mind kept drifting back to the female sitting in the cells below the palace. If he closed his eyes, he could feel how right she’d felt in his arms, how she’d smiled up at him in welcome when he reached her. How could magic replicate his mate so perfectly? How could the Mother be so cruel?

Rhys felt the cool sweep of power that signaled the arrival of his army’s commander and his spymaster just before they entered his library. Cassian sprawled across one of the armchairs and Rhysand lost his focus for moment—remembering another form that had slept quietly there once, her book laying open across her lap. Blinking rapidly, he forced his mind to focus on his inner court.

“Any news?” Rhys asked, proud that his voice didn’t give away any inner turmoil.

In contrast to his cool tone, the room darkened slightly as his power spiraled around him. He couldn’t seem to help it anymore and it seemed like too much effort to keep it firmly under control. It was constantly seeking some sort of target for all the turmoil in his soul. Rhys knew that the moment she was gone, he’d lost the ability to create the starlight she’d so loved in his darkness. There was no light in him anymore.

Cassian sat up a little straighter, “The Illyrian commanders have agreed to support our cause. A few camps tried to break away, but were dealt with before they reached Hybern.” His tone was cool and gave no indication of the pain Rhys knew still troubled him from his injuries. The fight with the fake Feyre hadn’t helped.

Rhys wished he was able to hunt down those traitors himself. The beast in him craved violence and bloodshed to overcome the crushing sorrow that made it hard to breathe, hard to keep moving.

Nodding, he forced his voice to remain casual as he addressed Azriel, “And you? What have you found out?”

Az exchanged a glance with Mor and Cassian that Rhysand choose to ignore before speaking, “Since I have not used harsher methods to get her to speak, I haven’t uncovered anything useful. The thief refuses to speak to anyone but you.”

Rhysand nearly stumbled at the memory of her laughter, So I’m your huntress and thief?

You are my salvation. Were, he corrected himself, she was his salvation… Now he was just lost.

The flames in the candles guttered as his power swept through the room in an icy rush. Mor stood, moving closer to him, trying to offer comfort. Taking a breath, he forced it back to the space around him, curling around his body like ink in water.

Amren walked in with Nesta then and took in the room in one sweep of her silvery eyes. Nesta was more blunt, “What the hell is going on with you?” she snapped.

A growl ripped out of him and in a blink Cassian was standing between them, blocking Nesta from view. With the ease of long practice in Amarantha’s court, Rhys pushed his emotions behind the cocky mask he wore the first time he met Feyre. “Did you come here for a reason, dear Nesta, or just to be annoying?” he drawled.

She arched an eyebrow, matching his prickly demeanor, “I want to know if you’ve uncovered Hybern’s plans yet. It’s been weeks and no one will tell me what’s going on.”

“No one is required to tell you anything,” Rhys replied.

Nesta’s eyes flashed and Cassian looked at him reproachfully. “You aren’t the only one who lost someone, High Lord,” she spat.

Blood thundered in his ears and he made a sharp gesture to Cassian, “Get her out of here.”

Nesta protested but Cassian knew how fragile his control was and just picked her up and carried her out. Her shrieks continued for a few moments as they moved away from his library. 

Rhys turned to Azriel, “I’ll speak to the spy myself then.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea Rhys?” Az said quietly, looking concerned, “You’re not…yourself.”

Rhysand began walking towards the door, ignoring him. He moved quickly down the corridor and wasn’t surprised when he heard them begin to follow. 

The imposter would talk, even if he had to rip the thoughts from her mind.


	12. The Reunion

I heard the footsteps move towards the door just before it opened but remained laying on my back staring at the ceiling. Azriel came to my cell like clockwork, trying to get me to confess to conspiring to with Hybern and ignoring all my protests. It was a monotonous routine and the only thing to distract me from my anxiety that they would never let me see my mate. In my frustration, I’d finally stopped even acknowledging Azriel’s presence.

I’d also destroyed most of the furniture in the room with my bare hands, but that was beside the point. 

Not only did the spymaster continue to ignore all of my explanations, the twins were probably long gone from what was once my safe haven but was now tainted. Something in the walls of the cells kept my magic from reawakening in my chest. 

It was ironic how unnatural it felt to be human again. Utterly helpless once again. Once, I would have reveled to feel like I was before…but that girl was dead. She’d died the moment she killed the Middenguard Worm.

The only good news was I was beginning to put on weight again, making up for the weeks of abuse in Hybern’s camp. The lack of magic had slowed my healing to a crawl. My ribs were still visible but most of my injuries—at least the physical ones—were beginning to fade. 

“I told you I don’t have anything to say to you, Az.” I muttered grumpily when the door swung open.

A deep, familiar voice rumbled from the door, “I’m not Az.”

Gasping, I got to my feet in a burst of speed, “Rhys!” I breathed, not quite believing my eyes.

Bright eyes, looked me over and I suddenly felt awkward and underdressed in the plain cotton shirt and pants. Apparently prisoners weren’t given the beautiful two piece outfits of the Night Court. My bare feet felt cold on the hard stone floor. Nervously I played with the hem of my shirt and ran a hand over my hair, checking to make sure that my braid was still in place.

The last time I’d seen him he’d been furious and so heartbroken and now he didn’t look much better. His eyes were sunken and flat, all the light that had shone in them even in the depths of Amarantha’s court was gone. His body seemed thinner and the rippling muscles of the warrior I knew and love had deteriorated.

Rhysand was more out of control than I’d ever seen him. His power licked the air around me like a wild thing, leaving slightly unpleasant tingles in its wake. The true Lord of Nightmares.

But he had come. He had come for me just like he always swore he would. He was still my Rhys.

I stood still, unsure of what to do or say now that he was finally in front of me. Images from the horrific scene Brannagh and Dagdan had planted in my mind flickered before my eyes.

I’ll never forgive you for betraying me. Familiar hands sinking a blade deep into my gut while smiling gently into my face.

Gritting my teeth, I straightened my spine and faced him. My Rhys would never do such a thing. He would never hurt me. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to think of what to say.

“For someone who has been insisting on speaking to me for days, you are remarkably silent,” he mocked.

Temper flashed at the disrespectful tone, but I forced my voice to remain even, “I….Azriel said you wouldn’t come,” I finished lamely. Distantly I noticed that Azriel and Mor were in the hallway, I even caught the edge of another set of wings that I identified as Cassian’s.

Rhys smiled, showing too much teeth for it to be a comforting gesture, and leaned one shoulder against the wall across from me. I noticed his hands were clenched into fists, hinting at his hidden emotions. “Did he?” he drawled, “Well here I am…”

I took a tentative step forward, starting to close the distance between us. Violet eyes watched me like a great beast watching a doe walk across a meadow. I tried not to tremble.

“I’m not an imposter, Rhys,” I murmured quietly, meeting his eyes, “I’m Feyre. I’m your m---“ 

My words were cut off on a gasp as he moved in a burst of speed too fast for me to track. He slammed me hard against the back wall of the cell, his hand a brand around my neck and I flinched instinctively.

“Don’t you, “ he bit out, rage pouring off him in waves, “dare speak her name. You don’t deserve to look at me with her face and you will not mar her memory with your lies.”

For a moment I felt like we were back in Amarantha’s Court, in my cell. Out of control and so damned lonely that I wished the mysterious, cocky Rhysand would visit me again. Because I had wished for him to come back, even when my heart belonged to Tamlin.—if it ever truly did.

Choking, I scrabbled against his hold as my own anger ignited. His claws only tightened around my neck, just on the edge of truly hurting me. His breath was hot on my face and I could see only darkness in his eyes. 

Kicking out with both my legs, I managed to make him loosen his hold slightly, “I’m not lying, you prick!” I shouted. We were both breathing heavily now.

Rhysand froze for a moment before that great, never ending anger rose in him once again, “My mate is dead!” he snarled, his voice breaking slightly.

Flinching, I tilted my chin up stubbornly, “If you don’t believe me, search my mind for yourself.”

This time he was the one to hesitate, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of knowing the truth of the person standing in front of him. My heart ached for the pain and suffering we had experienced at the hands of Hybern. It was time to make things right again.

My eyes softened, “It’s me, Rhys…”

Closing my eyes, I relaxed in his grip and lowered the mental shields that had been a part of my psyche ever since Rhysand showed me how to create them in his library so many months ago.

I thought that it would be difficult to be so defenseless again after Brannagh and Dagdan, but my soul seemed to sing out to Rhys. Telling him to come home.

Rhysand hesitated for a moment before he slammed into my mind like a maelstone of power. He wasn’t gentle—nothing like the moments of warmth and comfort he’d given me when I needed him most. Claws sank deep into my psyche, digging deeply into the very core of my being. Then….he went motionless.

I felt the moment when he realized the truth. It burst through his mind like a shock wave as he went very still.

Feyre.

My name whispered through his mind like a prayer and he repeated it over and over again. A shudder rippled through his body and his hold on my neck gentled. His hand slid behind my head, threading through my hair, and suddenly he was crushing me against him. 

I was crying freely now and I clung to him as though I could crawl inside of him. My legs gave out and we went to our knees, clutching each other. He buried his head in the crook of my neck and I felt him breathe in my scent on a shaky inhale. 

Rhys.

Rhys tightened his grip on me, “You were dead,” he whispered brokenly as if he still couldn’t believe it, “They sent me your body…”

His mind poured into mine like a river of warmth, soothing my hurt and heartache, mending the fractures left behind by Brannagh. Love you need you missed you

“A trick,” I whispered, “They wanted you to believe I was dead so you wouldn’t search for my.”

Rhys’ hands spasmed against me, but I gently tilted his chin up so I could meet his gaze, “We will destroy them for what they tried to do, but we will not let it destroy us.”

We met in a rush of hot breath and achingly familiar lips. Rhys made a sound in the back of his throat that made my toes curl in anticipation and deepened the kiss. My hands clenched in his shirt as I hung on for dear life.

Mate, my heart and soul sang, my mate. 

With a growl, Rhysand broke the kiss, scooped me up into his arms, and walked out the door. I caught sight of the startled faces of his inner court—I stuck my tongue out at Az for good measure—and we were winnowing in a burst of magic into our bedroom.

Home at last.


	13. Chapter 13

Rhys kicked open the door to his—our—bedroom with a burst of controlled power. His skin felt feverish against me and I reached up to drag him down for another soul-searing kiss. 

I wiggled in his hold until he let me slide slowly down his body until I could stand on my own two feet. His hand tangled in my hair at my nape, holding me close to him while he plundered my mouth, searing me like a brand. The other hand gripped my hip, aligning our bodies so perfectly that we both groaned.

Gasping, I yanked on the edge of his shirt, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over his head and expose that glorious golden skin of his. I ran my hands over his muscles and scars, reacquainting myself with my favorite canvas. He shivered and I grinned against his lips before running one hand firmly across the arch of his right wing.

Rhysand chuckled a little raggedly, “You cruel, wicked thing.”

Nipping his bottom lip, I wrapped one of my legs around his hips and ground myself against him.

His breath came out in a rush and a curse before our positions suddenly reversed and I felt my back hit the cool wall. Growling he ran his mouth along my jawline and down the column of my throat, nipping and tasting.

His hands fumbled with the hem of my plain cotton shirt before he finally gave a sharp jerk and I felt the fabric split down my front, exposing my bare chest. I started to laugh at his impatience but stopped when I saw the horrified look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, still a little breathless.

Gently, he reached out and ran a shaking hand down the angry red scar that ran across the left half of my midsection, “Where did you get this?” he asked with a voice cold as death.

Self-consciously I started to pull the scraps of my shirt together, but a soft touch of my wrist stopped me. “It was from when I fell…I wasn’t able to stop myself when I hit the trees,” I said softly.

Rhys reached for my wrist, brushing his fingers over another scar, “And this?”

I scowled at the memory, “Brannagh did that after I insulted their mother.”

He was so still that I reached for him again, pulling him close to me with an aching heart. I wished for the millionth time that our mate bond was whole once again so that I could see what he was thinking. That he could feel what I felt being back in his arms once again.

“Rhys?” I murmured, stroking his hair as he leaned heavily against me, his face against the crook of my neck.

“Tell me what happened.” His words were ragged and I winced, uncertain if telling him the truth would be a comfort or a burden to him. I decided to focus on the facts that could help the Night Court in their battle against Hybern’s forces.

“Tamlin offered Hybern the Spring Court as a staging ground for his invasion of the mortal lands and my help in exchange for ‘saving’ me from you,” I gave him a rueful smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, “Apparently he thought the note I sent him was fake because he didn’t realize you’d taught me to read during my stays here.”

Rhys didn’t say anything so I continued, “Hybern sent Tamlin away to assist with issues in the Spring Court by convincing him that I would be protected by Lucien as I fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

I faltered, searching for a way to say what happened next and Rhys soundlessly scooped me up in his arms again and walked over to the bed. He tucked me into the covers and wrapped his body around me, my head resting naturally against his chest and our legs tangled together.

“As soon as Tamlin was gone…Hybern tasked Dagdan and Brannagh with ensuring my allegiance to their cause. Lucien was already in their thrall so he was sent away quickly—I don’t think he ever even suspected something was going on.” I took a deep breath, trying to draw comfort from Rhysand’s presence, “The king wants the Book of Breathings…badly. I don’t think he can use the Cauldron effectively with out it.”

I faltered for a moment, “At first, Hybern promised that he would keep Velaris safe and that he wouldn’t harm any of you…but they didn’t think that was enough to ensure I would do what they wanted.”

Rhysands’ hand clenched around my shoulder and I watched as the world outside our canopy bed suddenly went dark. 

The words rushed out of me then, “I was able to keep my shields up for weeks because I knew you were looking for me. I knew it. But when Hybern told me what they’d sent you…I faltered. Brannagh was waiting for a moment of weakness and she took over my body to infiltrate the Night Court.”

I sat up, wrapping my arms around my chest and watched my tears fall onto the the soft sheets, “I’m so sorry, Rhys. I tried so hard to keep her from finding out where the Book was. They took me to the cabin in the woods and sent Brannagh and me to Velaris to take it. If Amren hadn’t caught us we would have taken it all the way back to Hybern. I wouldn’t have stopped her.”

Warmth surrounded me as Rhys wrapped his arms around me, his wings forming a tiny cocoon around us. Softly he wiped away the tears running freely down my face with the pad of his thumb and kissed me on my shoulder, “Oh Feyre, there is no need for apologies—not between us.”

Sobbing, I forced myself to continue, “When I saw her hurt you—when she used my body to hurt you, I attacked her. The struggle was enough that she lost control and I forced her out of my mind. By that time though, it was too late to save myself…”My hands clenched into fists in the bed sheets, “I knew I would die out there.”

Rhysand pulled me toward him and kissed me fiercely, “I will not let you die,” his voice was raw power, “I thought I lost you once and it nearly killed me. I will not let it happen again, I swear it.”

I wrapped my arms around him and whispered soft, comforting words until he relaxed against me. Peace began to creep over me and I whispered softly into the night, “I love you.”

Rhys shifted to pull me more firmly beside him, “And I love you, Feyre darling.”

I was still smiling when I fell asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

When I opened my eyes, it was to the familiar canopy of my bed in the Night Court. For a moment, I just breathed in the comforting scents and sounds of my home. It was surprising sometimes how quickly my heart had settled into this place when I’d once considered it to be a place of nightmares.

My smile faded as I ran an arm across the bed, searching for the comforting warmth of my mate and finding nothing but an empty bed. Pulling the sheets up around my chest, I sat up, frowning at the empty bedroom.

“Rhys?” I called softly, but the room remained silent.

Still frowning, I looked over at the nightstand and saw a folded note with a familiar, looping scrawl.

Feyre,

I got called away to deal with some business. You were sleeping so soundly that I couldn’t bear to wake you. Mor is coming by to check on you and bring some breakfast—I don’t think you have a choice in this. We all missed you.

Love,  
The Most Handsome High Lord

I was torn between rolling my eyes and letting my smile widen even more at the cocky words. Something was bothering me though about Rhys’ apparent nonchalance at my return. Last night he seemed so…broken. This false confidence didn’t sit well with me.

Slipping out of the bed, I walked over to the dresser and pulled out a set of rose gold Night Court attire. The midriff shirt was cuffed with a band of bright turquoise and I tried to ignore how loose the clothes were on me. Leaving the Night Court apparently was hell on my appetite, I thought morbidly. 

A knock at the door had me looking up a moment before a blur of bright red clothes and sleek blonde hair was nearly tackling me in their desire to wrap me in a hug.

“Feyre!” Mor half shouted, half cried into my ear as she tried to crush me with her bare arms and affections, “Thank the Mother you’re alright.”

I winced as she tightened her arms around me, but didn’t complain, “I missed you, Mor.”

She released me finally, discreetly brushing away a tear as she did, “ I, uh, brought breakfast but I thought it might be better to eat in the main room. Cassian, Az, and Amren all want to see you and your sisters are coming up from their safe house to see you. They should be here soon.”  
I started to nod, but the thought of breakfast had my stomach suddenly heaving. Turning away from her, I whirled around, running to the bathroom just in time to heave up the remains of my supper into the toilet.

A few moments later, I felt a cool washcloth placed against the back of my neck and my hair carefully held away from my face. 

When the urge to vomit slowly passed, I leaned against the cool edge of the sink, “Thanks,” I managed.

Mor’s eyes were dark with worry, “You know that if you need to talk…” her voice wavered slightly, “I know what it’s like. To be trapped among your enemies…. I understand how it feels when you try to move on.”

Heart breaking at the pain in her eyes, I put my hand over hers, “Thank you, Mor.”

We sat in companionable silence for a while before I finally was able to get up and brush my teeth. Surprisingly, I felt much better after the burst of nausea passed and my stomach grumbled angrily. Must have eaten something bad last night.

Once I was ready, we walked out of our bedrooms and Mor filled me in with what had happened after they’d winnowed away from Hybern’s castle. I was glad to see and hear that Cassian and Azriel were slowly getting back to their former strength. I was especially interested in the growing love/hate relationship of my sister and Rhysand’s general.

As we entered the large room where I’d thrown my shoe at Rhysand the first time I came to the Night Court, I heard familiar voices shouting angrily across the hall.

“You overgrown bats wouldn’t know control if it bit you in the ass!” Nesta, it seemed, had arrived.

“You can’t just keep hiding from your powers like a coward!” Cassian snarled back. 

Mor and I walked in in time to see Nesta hurl one of the muffins from the breakfast table at Cassian’s head. The general had been distracted by our arrival and the blueberry muffin connected with a solid thunk against his cheek. Murder, I thought to myself, imagining and naming the painting in my head as Cassian slowly pivoted to face Nesta once again.

“Did you just huck a muffin at my head?” he said, voice shockingly calm even with the fury lacing each word. Sitting calmly at the table, Azriel offered a shocked looking Elain more cream for her tea—clearly he’d decided to ignore the fight going on around them.

Nesta tilted her chin up stubbornly, “I did not ‘huck’ a muffin at you. I threw it, with deadly accuracy.”

The silent stand off was broken as Mor let out a peal of laughter, shoulders shaking as she tried to contain her mirth at the offended look on both Cassian and Nesta’s faces. I grinned as a flush swept over Cassian’s high cheekbones and he carefully brushed away a few crumbs that had fallen on his shirt.

“Please excuse your sister’s childishness,” he said gruffly as he crossed the room to stop in front of me. Nesta’s angry response was cut short when he reached out and ruffled my hair gently, “We missed you.” His playful attitude dimmed a little, “Don’t ever do that again.”

I nodded solemnly, “I don’t plan to.”

We were distracted by the arrival of Amren, looking more harried than I’d ever seen her. She walked over to me, silver eyes flashing as she looked me over carefully, seeming to notice all the new injuries I’d tried to cover with clothing.

Finally, she pursed her lips and met my eyes, “Are you well enough to plan your revenge?” she asked briskly, not bothering with sympathy.

A slow smile stretched across my face and I felt the same intense rush of power I’d felt in the sky over Velaris when I’d killed the Attor, “Always.”

Thank you all for reading Broken Dreams! A special thanks to those of you who took the time to read and review, I love to hear from you guys! I hope you continue to read and enjoy our story as it continues along!


	15. Chapter 15

Amren and rest of the Court spent the rest of the afternoon getting me up to speed with the alliances they’d made while I was in captivity. Nesta and Cassian had fallen into a sullen silence, sitting at opposite ends of the table. My sisters planted themselves firmly in the seats next to me and Elain quietly slipped more food on my plate when she thought I wasn’t looking. The show of silent support made the hole in my chest seem smaller.

I nibbled on a piece of melon as I considered what to do now. “You searched the cabin?” I asked absently to Cassian.

He growled in annoyance, “By the time we got there, they were long gone. I found some blood but not much else.”

I sighed, “At least they didn’t get the Book. Hybern will probably punish them for losing their best chance to retrieve it.” There was grim satisfaction in my voice but no one commented on it. They knew what it was like to crave your revenge.

“When I was in his camps, I think we spent a lot of time in the Dusk Court,” I said thoughtfully, “Maybe we can start looking there.”

Azriel perked up, “How do you know it was Dusk?” he asked softly.

I swallowed trying to force away the memories, “When the twins…took a break, I would watch the sun set. It was too brilliant to be anything but the Dusk Court.”

Azriel nodded and he and Cassian shared a look that made me grit my teeth. I was tired of them treating me like they were waiting for me to have a breakdown.

My temples throbbed, I’d only been sitting here discussing the war but I felt like I’d run a marathon. I still was recovering from my stay at their camp and…I forced my mind away from all that had happened there. 

Mor noticed me rubbing at my forehead and met my eyes, concerned but I shrugged her off, “Where’s Rhysand?” I asked Azriel.

I caught a moment of unease in Az’s eyes for a moment before he replied, “He was called to an emergency council among the High Lords in our alliance.”

My gaze sharpened as a wave of hurt and surprise washed over me, “Why did he go alone?” I asked softly.

The group looked down, playing with the food left over from lunch. Azriel’s eye softened, “He wanted to give you time to rest.” He paused for a long moment, “Rhys has…been struggling for control since you disappeared.”

 

I stood abruptly, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” I said shortly.

Mor stood too but I shook my head sharply, “I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

As I walked away, I pretended like I didn’t notice how worried they looked. I heard a chair scrape as I entered the dark hallway and was surprised when Nesta walked alongside me. We walked in silence for a while before I finally gritted out, “I don’t need an escort to my own rooms.”

Nesta’s tone was just a sharp as it always was, “I’ll leave the babysitting to the rest of your freaky friends.” 

I growled at her description of the other fae, “You know you’re one of them now too, right?”

She shrugged, golden brown hair glinting in the light. “As long as it lets me kill Hybern, I can live with that.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, a little more gently. I wasn’t the only one having difficulties with this new war.

Stopping outside my door, she crossed her arms across her chest and nodded in the direction of the eating room and Rhysand’s inner court, “Those four have been keeping things under control while you were gone. Your mate,” she said the last word with a bit of disdain, “has been rampaging and barely in control.”

I bristled, ”Do you have a point?” Guilt made my heart hurt.

“My point is that you need to give them a break. They deserve a little bit of understanding for being worried about you and the High Lord.”

Startled, I gaped at her, ”You’re telling me to be understanding?”

A bit of a blush stained her cheeks. “They aren’t…the worst creatures in the world,” she said defensively.

I laughed, “Even Cassian?”

Nesta snarled, “That overgrown bat is nosy ass…but he is trying to be a good friend.” She stared intently at the ground and I chuckled.

“I’ll try to be more considerate,” I said, amused.

“I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t hurt Elain,” she snapped back, pushing off the wall and stomping down the corridor away from me.

I watched her go thoughtfully. Apparently quite a lot had happened in the last few weeks. My sister was still dedicated to Elain and still a snarling hell beast when it came to emotions.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair considering what was going on with my mate. It wasn’t like him to leave me in the dark—not after Tamlin. Walking into our room, I threw off my outfit and padded over to the bathroom.

The massive tub/swimming pool gleamed enticingly and I carefully turned on the water until the room was filled with steam. Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at myself critically. Without the familiar tattoo, I almost couldn’t recognize myself.

If I ignored my pointed ears, I looked like the scared girl who’d been brought to the Spring Court. The thought made a growl build in my chest. I was NOT that naïve girl anymore. I was Feyre Acheron, Cursebreaker.

My powers shifted in my chest, slowly returning to normal. It curled around my heart like a rumbling cat, hinting at the dark origins of part of them. With a thought, I on Tarquin’s powers and watched the water in the tub rise slowly, reforming. 

I slid into the tub as my wolves paced around the room while birds flew in lazy circles above my head. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on another branch of my power. When I opened them again, the room was filled with the glittering night sky. Leaning back in the tub, I smiled up at the evidence of my power. I was done being a victim. I would be the High Lady of the Night Court.

When the water cooled, I released stepped out of the tub, wrapping a long sheet around my body. My creatures disappeared down the drain and the night slowly faded as I walked back into the bedroom. 

Looking through my dresser, I selected an outfit with a grin. My hair hung down my back in a wave of golden brown, curling slightly as it dried. Rhys wouldn’t know what hit him.

 

Several hours later, and deep into the night, I heard the bedroom door slowly creak open. Setting aside the book I’d been reading, I watched as my mate attempt to walk silently into the room—clearly thinking I’d be asleep.

He froze in surprise when he noticed me sitting there, watching him. A charming smile crossed his face and he purred, “Hello, Feyre darling. I thought you were sleeping.”

Arching an eyebrow, I spread my arms slightly gesturing to my open eyes, “Obviously not.”

He eyed me warily, noting my grim expression, “Is something the matter?”

My voice was stern as I crooked my finger, calling him to come closer, “We need to talk.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! 
> 
> As a special Christmas treat, I've posted a steamy chapter of Feyre and Rhysand. If you prefer to stick to a non-sexual storyline, I've marked with asterics where you should scroll down and where to start reading again. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and reactions to the story as it progresses so please take the time to comment if you feel so inclined. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading Broken Dreams and have a Merry Christmas!

My mate stared down at me warily. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked with the same tone as someone going to the gallows.

“Azriel told me where you were today,” I said flatly. There was no compromise in my tone—I couldn’t let him begin to think it was okay to leave me out of difficult tasks.

Rhys sighed, “I didn’t think you’d want to be in public now.”

I nodded, “That may be true, but you didn’t bother to ask, did you?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair. A deep weariness seemed to emanate from his hunched shoulders, “I know it was wrong. I just…didn’t want you to be away from the Night Court just yet. I can’t protect you as well out there.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Rhys,” my voice was soft in the still night air. “You’re my mate, not my keeper.”

Rhys let out a long breath, “I know you don’t,” he whispered, “I didn’t want to treat you like Tamlin did but I…”

I was moving before he finished speaking, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. His wings draped around me like pieces of the night sky. Pressing closer to his warmth, I felt him begin to shake as the tears ran silently down his cheeks. My poor High Lord.

“I’m here. I’m safe,” I repeated, “We will get through this—together.”

We stayed like that for a long time until at last he quieted and took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, darling.”

I nodded against his warm back and felt a small smile grow at the corners of my mouth, “I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Anything.”

“Come to bed,” I whispered in his ear. He was still for a moment, turning slowly toward me and eyed the soft robe I was wearing.

*********************(Stop here if you do not want to read a sex scene)*******************

“Is that what you want?” he asked with a voice like sin.

I slid off the bed to stand in front of him, pushing gently on his shoulders until he silently fell back on the mattress. His eyes were like a brand as I gathered my courage and untied the sash of the robe and let it slowly slide off my suddenly overheated body.

Rhys sucked in a breath at the sight of the red lace and I smiled slowly at him, “Is it as good as you imagined?”

The reminder of the sexy images Rhys had once sent into my mind made warmth spread through my body. His purple eyes stroked my body in a slow caress that had heat rising in my cheeks.

“Better,” he purred.

Slowly, I stalked toward him stopping when I stood between his knees. A predator studying its prey. With an imperious wave of my hand, I gestured to his clothing, “Take them off.”

Eyes hot, he slowly complied. I licked suddenly dry lips as each inch of his delicious body was revealed. Rhysand took his time, knowing the effect he had on me, but I didn’t complain. This was the first time I’d felt like me since I first felt Brannagh in my mind. Even she wasn’t able to take this from me.

When he was finished, I looked him over, enjoying the way his muscles flexed and hardened under my gaze. The cool night air blew gently through the rooms from the open window and I felt my nipples tightened under its caress. 

I straddled him, crawling up his body slowly so he felt every brush of the red lace as I settled himself over him. My hands curled under his head and lifted him up to my mouth for a slow, hot kiss. His hands clutched at my hips, urging me to move over him.

Ignoring his silent demand, I feathered kisses over his cheeks and jawbones. He growled when I sucked on his ear before nibbling my way down his neck and chest. I ran my hands down his chest, raking my nails gently over his overheated skin and watched goose bumps spread over his chest.

Rhys’ hand tightened on my hip and he arched up, pressing against my damp core. We groaned together at the delicious friction. His mouth claimed mine for a kiss that let me know exactly what he wanted to do to me.

His clever fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the tiny piece of lace that barely covered my core. They wandered down to my slick folds and he growled when he felt how wet I was already.

I let him stroke and tease me until I began to felt my body begin to go over the edge. Breathing heavily, I slid back out of range of those wonderful hands and wrapped my own around his hard length. Rhys bit back a curse when I tightened my hold and ran my thumb over the broad tip.

Grinning wickedly, I watched as Prythian’s most powerful fae clutched desperately at the sheets, trying to regain control of himself. Before he managed it, I ran my tongue over the long length of him and took him into my mouth.

Rhys made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a shout and nearly came off the bed. Ignoring him, I settled between his thighs and began to experiment with what made him gasp and shiver in pleasure.

When I slid my mouth down his full length, I suddenly felt his arms under my shoulders a moment before my back hit the cool sheets. The red lace outfit went flying across the room, replaced by the smooth silk of my mate’s body.

His hands cupped my breast as his thumbs ran teasingly over my nipples. I moaned in pleasure and curled one of my legs around his hip, urging him closer. Ignoring me, he ran his lips over my collarbone before turning his full attention to my chest. Within moments I was gasping and sobbing for release, for more of him.

Rhys’ mouth returned to my mouth a moment before he drove his full length into me. He swallowed my scream of pleasure with wild kiss before letting out of groan of his own. My body felt almost painfully full and I could feel every inch of him as he withdrew slightly before thrusting forward once more.

“Perfect,” he rumbled, “you are perfect.”

We moved together like we were created for one another. I felt my magic rise up to meet his even as our bodies rose to that beautiful peak. Rhys made an inarticulate sound of pleasure as my body began to glow with the dazzling light of the stars. I felt my body spiral over the edge as Rhys’ roared into the night.

When I could think again, I panted, “I think that makes up for leaving me behind.”

Rhys threw back his head and laughed, “That’s probably not the best way to convince me to take you to the next meeting, my love.” I smiled back at him as I realized that was the first time he’d laughed since I returned.

“Next time I’ll be much more scary then.”

Rhysand’s hands began to wander over my body once more and pulled me into a possessive kiss, “There won’t be a next time.”

We didn’t talk for a long time after that—we had more important things on our minds.

***************************(You may begin reading again here)****************************

Hours later, we lay panting and sated in our bed. I sprawled across Rhys’ chest in a boneless heap and he lazily traced designs across my bare back. Smiling with true happiness, I pressed a kiss to Rhysand’s chest over his heart.

“It’s a good thing that none of the others have rooms here,” I said with a sleepy chuckle.

He smiled back at me, “I always like to plan ahead.”

Then, like a rubber band snapping into place between us, I felt the mate bond flare to brilliant life. It glowed like living starlight, permanently tying our souls together once again. My breath came out in a shaky gasp and I looked up into eyes of impossible beauty as a mixture peace and radiant happiness settled into my very bones. 

Hello, Feyre darling, a voice like the night wind whispered through my mind.


	17. Chapter 17

A soft sound roused me from sleep and I sat up, rubbing at my eyes. My body felt warm and sated and I could see the mound in the sheets beside me that indicated that Rhys was still sleeping. 

As quietly as I could, I slipped out of bed and began to pad towards the bathroom. Rhys didn’t move on the bed and I smiled slightly to myself. It was good that he was getting some sleep. I didn’t like the shadows in his eyes.

Just as I stepped through the doorway, I felt a whisper of air a moment before I felt cold steel at my neck. I froze as a terrifyingly familiar voice hissed in my ear, “Don’t. Move.”

Brannagh.

My heart sank in my chest and I took a ragged breath, trying to rein in the instinctive panic I felt. What was she doing here? How did she get here? How did she get through the shields?

“Did you think you could get away from us so easily?” she asked gently, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in soft caress, “Dagdan and I have missed you so…”

Clenching my teeth, I tried to control the urge to scream and scream and never stop. Releasing a shaky breath I said softly, “Rhys is going to kill you.” 

The thought of what Rhys would do as soon as he even sensed the twin’s presence made me feel slightly less out of control. My eyes scanned the soft darkness of the bathroom for Dagdan while I continued to speak with Brannagh, “What do you want? Surely you don’t think I’ll go with you quietly.”

Brannagh laughed coldly and let the edge of the dagger slice a hot line against the column of my neck, “Your former mate won’t bother us.”

Refusing to wince, I let her move me forward towards the bedroom. Hope burst in me, all I had to do was call to Rhys through the bond and he would wake up and destroy them. 

Reaching down the bond, I stumbled when I discovered nothing but cool darkness and silence. What was wrong with our link? Had they managed to slip fae bane into my food again?

Abruptly, Brannagh removed her knife from my neck and pushed me toward the bed. I was so surprised that I stumbled and hit the edge of the bed hard. Yes! I thought, Rhys, wake up!

The form on the bed didn’t move and all thoughts of Brannagh abruptly left my mind as I moved closer to the still form of my mate. With shaking hands, I gently pulled the sheet back revealing the still, perfect face of the High Lord of Night.

“Rhys,” I choked. He was too still. Why wasn’t he waking up? Why wasn’t he moving?

Breathing became more and more difficult as I grabbed for his shoulder but pulled away with a sound of horror. A dark sticky liquid covered my palms, visible even in the dim morning light.

Blood, my mind registered distantly. There was blood on the bed and Rhys wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving?

“Rhys!” I was shouting now, screaming at him to wake up. To smile at me one more time. Leaning over his still form on the bed, I clutched him to my chest, begging him to wake up. His chest was a mass of bloody flesh where a sword had hacked his strong, beautiful heart to pieces. 

Distantly I heard Brannagh move closer and heard her awful voice say, “You’re pathetic.”

I stared at her with dead eyes, wishing I could summon any kind of energy to argue, to fight. The coldness in my chest spread through my body and I silently slid off the bed. Carefully, I pulled the sheets over Rhys’ beautiful body. She didn’t deserve to see him like this.

Turning, I launched myself with all the rage and fury I possessed. Weaponless and in shock I knew I didn’t have a chance to defeat her, especially if Dagdan was lurking somewhere nearby, but at least I would be with Rhys soon. 

Wait for me, my love.

Brannagh knife bit into my side but I grabbed her wrist and twisted in a move Cassian had shown me. It went sailing across the stone floor and I ignored the burn in my side as I swung my fist at her head. My fist slammed into her chin and she fell back with a grunt.

Silently we circled each other, looking for a weakness. Brannagh moved with all the skill of her hundreds of years as one of Hybern’s monsters. I kept my arm tucked against the bleeding wound in my side and tried not to slip in the blood that was already dripping to the floor.

In a blur of movement, Brannaugh lunged forward aiming a foot towards my face. I ducked quickly but couldn’t move fast enough to miss her fist when it slammed into the knife wound on my side.

Stars flashed in my vision and distantly I felt Brannagh slam me into the hard floor. My hands scrabbled for purchase on the floor, trying to lift myself up again but a kick to my shoulders had me crying out in pain.

Brannaugh straddled me, mercilessly dodging my feeble attempts to dislodge her and wrapped her arms around my throat. Chocking and gasping for air, I felt the world around begin to dim. Rhys. Rhys, I’m sorry.

“FEYRE!” I heard a voice shouting distantly and I was suddenly blinking up into the face of a my very worried mate.

Sucking in a breath to ease my burning chest, I clutched at him weakly, tears running down my cheeks. “You were dead. They killed you,” I gasped.

Strong arms wrapped around me, cradling me against a warm, very alive male chest. “Just a dream, my love. It was just a dream,” Rhys murmured against my hair.

Nausea rose in me then and I lurched out of his arms, running for the bathroom. I barely reached the toilet before my simple dinner the night before made its second appearance. 

A few moments later, I felt Rhys sit beside me. Wordlessly he handed me a glass of water and a cool washcloth, which I accepted gratefully. Our hands brushed and he threaded his fingers through mine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

I shrugged, taking a long gulp of water, “Not much to say…”

There was a long silence as my stomach finally started to settle. Rhys’ eyes remained fixed on my face and I could feel his concern and love shining through the mate bond. 

I sighed, “Can I make a deal with you?”

One dark eyebrow arched, “A deal?” he rumbled, disbelief evident.

“If I share my darkness with you, you have to share yours as well. No secrets between us.”

His eyes burned purple fire as he smiled crookedly, “I accept your terms.”

My magic curled around us both and I felt heat creep up our clasped hands, burning lines across our palms. The magic reached a crescendo and I closed my eyes as a burst of white light flared through the room. When it receded, I looked down and smiled at the delicate black vines that trailed across our palms and up over our wrists.

Grinning, I looked up to the matching expression on Rhysand’s face. Cupping his cheek, I pulled him forward for a kiss that left us both breathless. “Now, my love, we should talk,” I said.

Rhysand growled and claimed my lips again, lifting me up into his arms, “Later,” he muttered as he stalked into the bedroom.


	18. Chapter 18

The next few days passed in a blur. Rhysand and I spent most of it in our rooms, talking and …catching up. My mate was finally starting to look and act like himself and the thought of our new, healthy mate bod made a deep thrum of happiness resound in my chest.

Unfortunately, Hybern’s plans could not be ignored for long and we could not allow him to gain any more momentum. While I was in captivity, he had been content to wait to receive the Book of Breathings from Brannagh and Dagdan’s plans but that was no longer a possibility. Now we were just waiting for the hammer to drop…

In a series of meetings with Rhys’ inner circle, I’d recounted every little detail I could remember from Hybern’s camp. Most of what I’d seen had been controlled by the twins and limited to their campsites but I could remember the horrifying glimpses of his soldiers as they prepared for battle and clues to where he’d moved through Prythian.

I wished I had more to give. Instead, my frustration only grew with each passing second.

I needed to do something. I needed to find Brannagh and Dagdan before my horrifying nightmares came true. I needed to protect my family and Rhysand before Hybern’s plans could come try.

Eventually, Rhysand decided that the best way to defeat Hybern would be to call on the other courts to unite under one banner. In the weeks I was missing, he had been hard at work organizing a place to gather the High Lords to officially declare their allegiances. Shockingly, they had already decided the meeting place—the Summer Court.

“Tarquin hates us,” I muttered to my mate, not for the first time.

“This issue is much larger than his dislike of us.” Rhys purred,” Besides, this will be an opportunity to mend that dispute under the flag of truce.”

Pressing my lips together in a firm line, I ignored the familiar guilt that rose when I thought of our ruined relationship with the High Lord of Summer. Had we made the right choice?

Rhys continued to strap on a seemingly endless supply of weapons onto his delectable body as I paced around him. I felt a gentle sweep of claws against my shields and I forced myself to sit on the bed next to him, “When will you return?” 

He sighed, “I need to ensure that the Illyrians have assembled in preparation for our assault on Hybern and winnow them closer. It will take me a day to move them and I should return on the following evening, barring any problems.”

Nodding, I chewed on a ragged nail. We’d decided that I should stay behind as his representative if any of the High Lords sent word about the meeting. That, and I’d returned to training with Cassian and Azriel to return to fighting shape. My body was still shockingly weak after my ordeal and I was not willing to remain on the sidelines for much longer.

Through our mate bond, I could feel Rhys’ own frustration at having to leave me again and it made me lean my head against his shoulder. “Hurry back,” I whispered.

His wild jasmine and citrus scent filled my lungs as he stole a long, hot kiss from me that had my toes curling against the cool stone floor. “As quick as I can,” he purred against my lips.

I forced myself to smile as he stretched those glorious wings to their full width on our balcony. They shaded me from the afternoon sunlight for a moment before he strode to the edge. With a casual wave, he stepped off and I caught my breath instinctively a moment before he shot back up into the sky.

I watched Rhys fly away until he finally winnow out of sight. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I held tightly to our mate bond for comfort. It was still painful to spend any time without him nearby but I could not continue to use him as a crutch.

The thought made me pull on my own worn leathers and stalk down the hallway to the training grounds. Perhaps a few rounds with Cassian would relieve me of some of my nervous energy. 

Unfortunately, the only immortal warrior that was still in the palace that I could find was Amren. The irritable immortal was seated across from my equally irritable sister, attempting to force her to use the magic she’d taken from the Cauldron.

“Try again,” she commanded coolly.

Nesta snarled, “It won’t work. The magic won’t come.”

“That’s because you refuse to accept that it’s there. Keep trying,” Amren snapped. “I have more important things to do than watch you continue to fail.

I interrupted before Nesta could launch herself across the table at Amren—somehow I didn’t think the little dragon fae would allow my sister to walk away from that skirmish. “Where’s Cassian?” I asked, a little too loudly to be a casual observer.

Amren made a derisive noise at my sister before turning those unnatural eyes toward me, “Azriel and that lout are running messages for Rhys this afternoon. They will be back this evening.”

I scowled. So much for my plan to distract myself with training.

Briefly I considered staying to watch their magic lesson, but the tension in the air had me backing out of the room as quickly as I came. Wandering down to the training grounds, I forced myself to move through one of the long warm-up routines that Cassian liked to use.

My mind remained detached from the movements, focused instead on my rising irritation with inactivity. How long would I have to be patient while Brannagh and Dagdan continued to aid Hybern and plot against us? 

The thought of the twins sent my mind onto a dark path and I made myself move faster through the routine, now adding a heavy broadsword. My arms began to burn and I wondered how Tamlin was able to ignore the new muscles I’d put on while at the Night Court. He and Ianthe had wanted to me to remain soft. A perfect doll for them to dress in insipid clothing, dyed in warm, spring colors.

The reminder of Ianthe had my blade slashing into a training dummy and sinking deep into the wood. I knew she helped convince Tamlin to make his deal with Hybern—had even sold out my sisters to aid in her plotting. For all I knew, she continued to poison Tamlin with more lies about the Night Court and the King of Hybern. She had been so convinced that I would continue to play the naïve puppet she’d tried to create and conceal in the Spring Court. I would need to repay her kindness soon.

Spinning away from the dummy, I dropped the blade onto the rack and began to walk toward my room, a new plan beginning to grow in my mind. I needed to know where my enemies were in order to hunt them down and kill them and there was only one way to locate them.

A grim smile was fixed on my face as I quickly gathered my supplies and summoned my magic. Winnowing was easier now and my magic leapt at my command. Carefully, I built my mental shields as well, just in case Rhys happened to look down the link.

I glanced at the dark swirls running across my hand in a familiar pattern and sighed. “I’m sorry Rhys, but I need to do this,” I whispered softly.

Pushing my guilt aside, I began a swirl of smoke and darkness. I moved quickly, winnowing away from the palace along a path that I mentally traced as I moved. Finally, I came to a stop, panting in the ancient woods that made up the Middle.

I was still many miles from the Weaver’s cabin but the thought of her so close made the tiny hairs on my neck stand straight up. Even the trees seemed menacing in the gloomy light that managed to trickle down through their thick branches. Rubbing my arms briskly, I began to scout out an area to suit my needs.

I found what I needed in a small glen, surrounded by thick oak trunks. The trees would give me enough cover to weave my way through or hide in should my trap fail. I was becoming more and more confident with my little snares, even if I wondered if my prey allowed me to catch it.

Smiling slightly, I pulled the thick cloak from my satchel and set my trap.   
 


	19. Chapter 19

After settling into the crook of a nearby tree to wait, I busied myself with obsessively checking that my mental shields were intact and that my bond with Rhys was still there. It led like a path of starlight to the tired but focused mind of my mate. He was focused on the task of moving the Illyrians and I marveled, not for the first time, at the massive amount of power he had at his command.

Is everything alright? He sent down the link.

I’m fine, just checking on you, I whispered back.

Love and comfort washed over me like a cool night wind and I leaned back against the rough bark of the gnarled oak tree. It was nice to be in the woods once again. Nostalgia rose in me at the thought of the girl I once was, the girl who’d only cared about keeping her family alive. It seemed like so long ago.

There was a sudden snap as my trap was trigger and I grinned at the outraged shriek that echoed through the woods. Grabbing my bow, I leapt down and jogged towards the clearing.

The Suriel stood like a dark shadow from my nightmares, tangled in the snare I’d so carefully created. The ragged black fabric of its cloak curled around its’ emaciated body like a lovers’ touch. At the sound of my footsteps, it turned it’s milky white eyes toward me. A shiver worked its way through me at the spindly, inhuman body of the Suriel. 

Its’ lips curved into a mockery of a smile that revealed the blackened stumps of its teeth, “Cursebreaker,” it whispered in a voice like a dead man’s last breath.

I swallowed, summoning my courage. I still wasn’t certain if this strange creature had any affection for me, even if it had helped me many times in the past. Had even revealed the truth of my mate.

“I had some questions,” I said firmly.

The Suriel stared at me for a moment before tilting its head like a cat surveying a mouse, “You cannot expect me to solve all of your problems, Feyre Archeron.” It took a long breath, as though scenting me and my magic, “You’ve changed.”

My hands shook and I clenched them around my bow, forcing my arrow to remain steady. “I need to know where Hybern is hiding his armies and where I can find Brannagh and Dagdan,” I replied, ignoring his statement. Considering how much it knew about things it shouldn’t, it already knew what had happened to me at Hybern’s camp.

The Suriel sighed, still watching me with those eerie eyes, “Are you sure that is what you want?”  
Frowning, I stared at it with confusion, “I need to know where they are so we can kill them.”

“There is more at stake than your need for revenge.”

“It’s not just for revenge! Hybern wants to bring down the Wall and conquer the High Courts,” I snapped irritably.

“Why did you come to me for answers when you could seek them yourself?” it asked gently.

I sighed, my anger draining away suddenly, “I trust the answers you give me.”

The Suriel’s eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment before it suddenly looked urgent, “We must be quick—you and the life of your babe depend on it.”

Everything went still as its words slowly echoed in my head. My….baby? I was…pregnant? Dizzily I tried to count day to the last time I’d bled. The whole time I was in Hybern’s camp I’d assumed that my monthly bleedings had stopped because of the starvation and torture I was experiencing. I hadn’t realized that it meant…

I was carrying the High Lord of Night’s baby. Rhysand’s baby.

My arrow clattered to the ground from nerveless fingers as I pressed a hand against my still-flat stomach. Pressed my palm against my child.

A sudden movement from the Suriel had me jerking my bow up once again, moving instinctively away. Our eyes met for a frozen moment before a line of burning fire blazed across my right cheek following the ash arrow that sank deep into the Suriel’s chest.

Horror was swept aside by the training Cassian had been pounding into me since I’d become a part of the Night Court. Keep moving. Focus. Find your enemies and attack.

I spun low, picking up my dropped arrow, and nocking it on my bow in a smooth movement. My magic swept out in a broad arc into the woods behind me, locating the small group of high fae easily. I sent the arrow screaming through the trees into the neck of the male holding his still-vibrating bow. Red blood arced through the air in a gruesome reminder of what had once brought me to my knees. Now I only wanted to see more.

I reached for another arrow, but froze as a familiar voice called out to me, “Don’t move.”

Ianthe.

Slowly, I straightened, eyeing the three males flanking the High Priestess of Spring, each holding a bow trained on me. I let my own drop to the ground in silent compliance with their threat. They remained vigilant with their weapons raised as Ianthe stepped forward with a smile that made me want to grind my teeth.

“Feyre, we’ve been looking for you,” she purred. “Tamlin has been so worried.”

Behind me, I could hear the breath rattling in the Suriel’s chest as it struggled to breathe and I felt a wave of raw fury rise in me, “Tamlin lost the right to worry about me when he left me to Hybern’s torturers.”

The soldiers began to spread out beside her, beginning to flank me as they closed in. Instinctively, I stepped back trying to keep them in my peripheral vision, but froze when the guard to my left loosed another arrow that pinned the Suriel’s leg to the ground. It gave a keening cry and I felt the burn of helpless tears in my eyes.

“Don’t hurt it!” I shouted. Ianthe shrugged and the soldiers returned to their silent positions around me.

“Brannagh and Dagdan have already been punished for their…eagerness to gain entry to the Night Court,” Ianthe said with a sympathetic look. “Tamlin was furious when he found out what they’d done.” 

That I believed. Tamlin was guilty of many things but he would never willingly submit me to the horrors I’d faced with the twins. I could imagine the same wrath that had driven me away being turned on Brannagh and Dagdan easily.

“We were friends once, Feyre,” Ianthe said with false sadness. “Give me a chance to prove you can trust me again.”

“You sold my sisters out to Hybern,” I spat, “You used me to lure Tamlin into an alliance with Hybern. All so you could gain power.”

She sighed sadly, “I didn’t know that he planned to do that. I only wanted them to be protected in the coming war.

“How did you find me?” I asked, trying to buy enough time to formulate a plan. Trying to focus on something besides the urge to rip out her tongue.

Ianthe replied smugly, “We’ve been tracking the Suriel for weeks, waiting for it to return to you again.”

The Suriel. It had always come when I called, even when doing so put it at risk. It had revealed the truth of my bond with Rhys and its kindness was repaid with an ash arrow through its heart. Rage and sadness fought for control of my movements but I forced them back. If I could draw them away, I could double back and help it. My blood and Helion’s gifts may be able to heal it. 

Gripping my bow, I took another step back, another step closer to the Suriel. Horrifying as it looked, it was the only ally I had. It was…my friend.

“Go,” a voice rattled behind me. “Weave…a trap for them.”

Understanding dawned even as Ianthe made a subtle gesture that had her soldiers moving in closer, ready to capture me. Summoning my magic, I became mist and shadows, winnowing through the woods of the Middle. Behind me, I could feel the bursts of magic of my pursuers as we streaked through the woods. Straining for speed, I blazed a chaotic path through the trees heading for the place of my nightmares.  
An arrow slammed into the earth beside me a moment before I winnowed again. The next caught me in the shoulder causing me to cry out in surprise and pain. Gritting my teeth, I tried to winnow again but the familiar burning in my shoulder made it obvious that I couldn’t. Faebane.

Hissing out a breath, I gritted my teeth and sprinted forward using the years I’d spent hunting in the mortal realm to my advantage. I heard a muttered curse and the sounds of several fae crashing through the underbrush behind me. All I had to do was maintain my distance until we reached the Weaver’s cottage.

Ahead of me the trees began to thin and I poured on the speed as I broke through the last of the massive oaks and sprinted for the deceptively peaceful looking cabin. I heard Ianthe’s shout of triumph as I raced for the door.

“You can’t hope to hide from us Feyre!” she called in triumph.

The cabin’s horrifying roof had been repaired or regrown since my last escape and I could hear the sounds of that awful spinning wheel clacking away inside. The clear, beautiful voice of the Weaver Slowing slightly, I carefully opened the door to the cabin praying to the Mother and anyone who would listen that I could surprise the Weaver once more.

Instead of moving deeper into the cabin, I wrapped my hands around the doorknob and slipped into the shadows behind the door. A cold sweat broke out across my face as I heard the spinning slow and that beautiful voice pause as though listening for something. I felt the door begin to pull closed but I dug in my heels, pulling with all my strength against it. The wound in my shoulder pulsed in agonizing waves, but I forced myself to breathe through it.

Outside, I could hear Ianthe and her guards move closer and I gave a feral smile at the thought of what awaited them. My smile faded as I realized I could no longer hear the sound of the Weaver’s singing or the noise of her wheel. 

“Is that a little mouse I hear?” a voice crooned across the room, making goose bumps break out over my skin.

Hurry up hurry up, I chanted silently to Ianthe and the others as the sound of the Weaver’s stool slowly moving back echoed around the room. The door continued to fight against me, trying to pull itself shut and I felt a moment of intense relief at the sound of Ianthe’s voice at the door.

“I hope you don’t think you can fight us, Feyre. That faebane is nasty stuff.”

I held my breath as the three guards followed Ianthe into the cabin and began to move further inside. They murmured quietly in surprise at the array of riches inside the modest cabin and Ianthe hesitated, uncertainty starting to thread into her voice, “Feyre?”

Using all of my remaining strength, I released the door letting the magic that had once trapped me pull me forward to swing outside a moment before it slammed shut behind me. There was a beat of silence before a terrifying voice crooned, “I wasn’t expecting guests.”

Then the screaming began.


	20. Chapter 20

Ianthe and her soldier’s screams echoed behind me as I half-jogged, half-ran back to where I’d left the Suriel. Each step caused pain to radiate from the shoulder wound where part of an ash arrow still protruded. I paused briefly and leaned against the tree, feeling a sickly sweat trickle down my back.

Grabbing the shaft of the arrow still lodged in the meat of my shoulder, I took a deep breath and pulled hard. It came free with a blast of pain and a wave of black sweeping over my vision. It cleared a few moments later to find me shivering against the rough bark of one of the trees.

As soon as I could, I slowly forced my numb feet under me and continued doggedly forward. Blood still seeped from my shoulder and the fabric of my leathers stung each time it rubbed against the edges. Without bandages or magic to heal it, I didn’t bother looking more closely at the injury—there were more important things at stake.

Every time I was tempted to stop, to rest, I forced myself to remember the look in the Suriel’s eyes as the arrow sank into its chest. The realization that it had purposely tricked me into moving out of the way of that same bolt. That it knew the attack would happen.

My breath burned in my chest in the cool air of the Middle and my gaze narrowed to the ground ahead of me. One more step. One more step would bring me closer. One more step could save it.

Through the fog that clouded my mind, I felt Rhysand stirring down our bond. Confusion and concern trickled through and I felt it grow into fear when he realized I wasn’t in the Night Court. I tried to summon the energy to tell him where I was but I didn’t have anything left.

The thought of what the Suriel had said made my mental shields snap back into place. Thick enough to block out even Rhys from this distance.

I was pregnant. Somehow, after all that had happened, a baby had survived within me. A baby that would be the heir to the Night Court.

My arm curled protectively around my middle as I slowly retraced the path back to the trap I’d set for the Suriel. Around me, night continued to fall and I tried not to think about the sounds of creatures stirring in the gloom of these woods. Tried not to think about what kind of horrors could live alongside the Weaver’s cottage.

Ahead of me, I saw the familiar clearing appear out of the gloom and I gave a sob of relief, my pace quickening instinctively. The Suriel still lay where it had been pinned like an insect to the ground. It was so still that I wondered if I was too late.

Dropping to my knees beside it, my hands hovered over the arrow in its chest, wondering if I should attempt to pull it out. I flinched in surprise and relief when those milky white eyes slowly opened and focused on my face.

“Cursebreaker…” it wheezed, its’ voice faint.

“Tell me how to help you,” I said desperately, “Will my blood work?”

Its’ hand slowly reached up and I felt its’ bony finger brush away a trail of tears I hadn’t noticed were streaming down my face. It seemed thoughtful. “Do you cry for me, Feyre Archeron?”

“Yes, now tell me how to heal you!” I cried, feeling lost.

A slow smile curled its lips and it let its’ hand fall back to the ground. “You know it’s already too late, “ it replied gently, “I just waited to see if you would return.”

Sobbing now, I curled my hand around its cool one. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you were hurt,” I cried.

“I knew the risks when I came…”

My hand tightened in its when it fell silent for a long moment. Its eye closed again and I knew that it wouldn’t be much longer. It seemed to gather its’ strength and opened its mouth once more,” Thank you…for coming back…”

“Thank you for being my friend,” I replied softly.

Another smile crossed its’ strange face and stayed there as it released a long, shuddering breath. I stayed beside the Suriel long after its chest stopped rising and falling. Long after night settled in around us and even after I felt the first stirrings of my magic returning.

Finally, feeling like I’d aged fifty years, I carefully covered the Suriel’s body with the cloak I’d used to call it here. Silently, I cut the rope snare that tied its feet to the earth and pulled the arrow in its leg free from the ground. Soft light from the full moon above us trickled down through the trees, providing light as I started my task.

Using my clawed hands, I methodically began to dig into the soft earth. The wound in my shoulder seemed to fade away along with the rest of the world as I quietly dug. Once the hole was large enough, I carefully placed the frail body of the Suriel within it. It seemed smaller now, without its enigmatic magic stirring the air around it.

I slowly piled the earth over it, beginning to feel exhaustion pounding at my temples but I refused to stop until the Suriel was buried. After a quick look around the clearing, I lifted a large, smooth white stone I found hidden among the roots of one of the nearby trees and placed it as a marker over the grave. Then I stood in silent vigil until the first rays of dawn began to break over the horizon.

My tears had long since dried on my face and I welcomed the same numbness that had been my companion in the Spring Court after Amarantha. It was easy to let the quiet emptiness settle within me. Easier than feeling the tumult of guilt and grief that threatened to choke me.

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed, staring down at the small piece of disturbed earth, but eventually a persistent sensation of wings and claws beating against my shields made me stand and summon my magic. With one last look at the little clearing, I let my body disintegrate into magic and wind and began the long journey home.


	21. Chapter 21

My body reformed in the streets of Velaris, instinctively seeking the bustle and warmth of the City of Stars. Instead I felt like an intruder, a dark creature hiding in the shadows of the light and laughter here. I looked down the road that would lead me back to the townhouse and hesitated.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my back on the path and began to wander through the streets of my home like a ghost of my former self. My arm throbbed painfully but I ignored it and the strange looks the blood attracted as I walked.

The Suriel was dead because of me. Because I couldn’t wait to find the answers for myself.

Numbly, I tried to wrap my head around the other secret it had shared. How could I possibly protect a child in this war? It was a miracle that I hadn’t lost it under Brannagh and Dagdan’s gentle care.

It seemed my human heart wasn’t the only human trait my body had kept. I never imagined that I’d have a child with Rhysand for decades or more with the low birth rates of the fae. Now I somehow I needed to prepare for the next High Lord of the Night Court.

How could I tell Rhys? The thought made me stumble and I sat down heavily on one of the benches that lined the Sidra River. I stared into the dark waters and sighed. Rhysand would balk at any mention of me fighting if he knew I was pregnant and I could never sit in safety so long as Brannagh and Dagdan remained free.

Behind me, I felt a rush of wind as Cassian landed on the street with a soft thump. Casually, he settled into the bench beside me and remained in companionable silence for a few moments.

“Want to tell me why Rhysand is sending me after you in a panic?” he took a deep breath and frowned, “And why you’re covered in blood?”

I sighed, “Because I’m a selfish asshole.” Cassian chuckled and I continued in a rush, “I made a mistake and it cost someone their life.”

In a rush of guilt and sorrow, I blurted out what had happened in the Middle—omitting what the Suriel had said about my baby. My hands clenched in the thick leather that covered my stomach as I waited for his response.

Finally, he sighed and gently tugged me closer until his arm wrapped around my shoulders, comforting and warm. His fist gently tapped my forehead as he looked into my eyes with a serious expression, “Don’t be an idiot, Feyre. The Suriel knew what it risked to warn you. Don’t belittle its’ sacrifice and don’t continue to block out Rhysand. Neither of you need that.”

Ashamed, I ducked my head in thanks and felt some of the darkness in my soul loosen its suffocating hold on my heart. Almost shyly, I released the shields I’d been holding onto in my mind and felt an instant wave of relief from Rhys.

Feyre, darling.

I’m sorry, I whispered to him, I’m okay.

I’m coming back soon, he replied with a bit of an edge to his voice. I expect an explanation.

Leaning against Cassian’s warm shoulder, I closed my eyes as the exhaustion of the last two days seemed to overwhelm me, but Cassian shifted, “We need to get that shoulder looked at before you crash.”

Nodding, I stood and trudged after him back to the townhouse. As soon as we entered, Cerridwen and Nuala descended like wraiths from some unseen vantage point where they must have been watching for us. They quickly hustled me into the bathing chambers where I stripped and slid into the steaming tub waiting for me. The two maidservants carefully washed and wrapped clean bandages over the still-healing injury, clucking at the state of the untreated wound.

After several minutes of their fussing, I gently shooed them away and forced myself to haul my aching body out of the bath before I fell asleep and drowned. Without bothering with clothes or even drying off, I collapsed across the massive bed and was instantly asleep.

Hours later, I was slowly awakened by the sensation of warm fingers tracing tiny patterns along the exposed skin of my back. Smiling contentedly, I turned my head to watch my mate as he stretched comfortably beside me. 

My smile faded as the memories and guilt from the day before slowly returned. Nervousness swelled, making me shift on the bed and avoid his gaze. I had no idea how to tell him the truth.

A tense silence fell over the room and his hand stilled, sensing my unease. “Where did you go?” he finally asked quietly.

“To the Middle.” I felt him go very still beside me and I continued before he could speak, “I wanted to ask the Suriel where Hybern was hiding his army.”

“And?”

I made a soft sound of fury, “Ianthe tracked the Suriel to lay a trap for me if I summoned it. They shot it and tried to bring me back to Hybern, but I managed to trap them in with the Weaver.”

Stiffly, Rhysand stared at me and said flatly, “With…the Weaver…”  
A feral smile crossed my face, “Yes.”

“You are a clever, cruel little thing,” he said, grinning back at me. His smile faded as he traced a finger over the bandage on my shoulder.

I caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, “It’s nothing.”

Eyes dark, Rhysand didn’t respond—just tugged me closer to him until the length of my bare body pressed against his travel-wrinkled clothes. I let his warmth sink into me greedily. 

His hand ran along the length of my side and traced the edge of my stomach, making me jump. I had to tell him. If I waited any longer, I could hurt him.

“Rhysand,” I began awkwardly, unsure of what to say to him. “We need to talk.”

One dark eyebrow flew up as he tilted his head down to look at me. “Oh? What about?” he asked cautiously.

“The Suriel told me something before it died,” I hedged, my gut churning with nerves.

Rhysand stared at me as I hesitated, looking for the right words. “I’m—“ 

Suddenly, the churning in my stomach turned into the awful nausea that I was becoming all too familiar with. Pressing the heel of my hand against my mouth, I leapt up from the bed and sprinted for the bathroom. I could hear Rhysand enter behind my as I emptied my guts into the white porcelain. 

Cool hands ran over my back in a soothing gesture while I flushed away the remains of my sickness. Shivering with the after effects of the morning sickness, I leaned against the stone tiles that lined the walls. 

Rhysand’s violet eyes looked worried as he watched me. “Are you sick?” he asked in a stiff voice. 

Through our link I could feel a mind-numbing fear rise in him and I gently took his hand, “In a way, yes.”

His hand clenched reflexively around mine and he looked me over as though he could see what was wrong with me. “Whatever it is, we will fix it,” he said with a worried smile, “I can summon the healers right away.”

“Rhysand, I—“

“Did Brannagh and Dagdan do something to you?” he growled, eyes flashing with deadly intent. “They have already signed their death warrant a thousand times over…”  
“No, I’m—“

“I will rip them to pieces with my bare hands before I start on the scum sucking High Lord—“

“Rhysand, I’m pregnant!” I finally shouted, cutting him off mid-tirade.

Rhys went very, very still. He blinked, swallowed and open his mouth, then swallowed again. His fingers brushed over my arm as though he were afraid a single touch would break me. “Pregnant?” he finally whispered.

“Yes. The Suriel said the baby survived Hybern’s camp and was healthy,” I said and watched a familiar shadow cross my mate’s face at the thought of what had happened to me.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated and I smiled. Joy swept over his face like the first rays of sun and he gave a loud whoop before picking me up and swinging me in a circle.

“You’re pregnant!” Rhysand shouted, loud enough that I was surprised that none of the servants came to check on us. Laughing with him, I let him place me gently on my feet before he ran a shaking hand over the barely noticeable curve in my belly.

Crouching on his knees before me, the High Lord of Night placed a reverent kiss over the sweet promise of new life that stirred within me. We both smiled in delight when, for the first time, I felt my baby move within me.


	22. Chapter 22

By the next morning, I was already at my wits end with the constant worrying of my mate. He hovered near me at all times, trying to slip more food onto my plate, encouraging me to rest more often. 

It was exhausting.

Cassian helped encourage my mate’s behavior with enough mischief in his eyes that I knew he was doing it to tease me. I glowered at him as Rhysand pulled out my chair and began piling my plate with food as we met to discuss the impending meeting with the other High Lords.

Settling in beside Amren, I tried to focus on the news that had come late last night. The High Lords of Prythian had finally settled on a meeting place to discuss a possible alliance against Hybern. At the very least, they would finally know where each High Lord stood in terms of the impending battle. My hands curled into fists on my lap at thought of the other Courts turning a blind eye to the horrors of Hybern’s army and the reawakened Cauldron.

Rhys sat down beside me and ran a comforting hand over my fisted hands. I smiled briefly at him before picking at the food he’d set before me.

“Azriel and Amren will be staying behind to watch over our borders during the meeting,” Rhys said briskly.

Amren made a sound of disgust at my side, “Are you still worried that I’ll destroy Tarquin’s little palace?”

Cassian laughed, “Only when you describe it like that.”

“I enjoyed his offering of a blood ruby after my last visit,” Amren replied smugly. I wondered if anyone had explained the real message behind the blood ruby and Tarquin’s new hatred for them to Amren. Perhaps it was best if she continued to pretend the rubies were a gift.

Mor ignored their banter to stare into Rhysand’s eyes with a determined expression, “I’m going too.”

“Are you sure?” he asked her gently. I knew what he was really saying. Eris and Beron would be there and would delight in being in tormenting Mor whenever possible.

Her answer was drowned out by a wave of nausea that swept over me as I realized that she was not the only one who would face their demons at this meeting of the High Lords.

Tamlin would be invited to this meeting.

The thought made my magic roil like a wild beast under my skin and I wasn’t surprised to feel the bite of claws against my palms. The symbol of the part of me that would always belong to him.

I wondered if he knew now what he’d left me to experience in Hybern’s camps. Part of me hoped the guilt of that decision kept him up late into the night. It was only fair if he lived with some of the pain from those weeks of hell.

Violet eyes watched me sidelong but my mate didn’t say anything, even when my claws bit into the skin of his wrists.

“Do you think we’ll get the support we need?” I asked.

Azriel and Rhysand exchanged a look before Rhysand answered, “It’s hard to say. Tarquin has not retracted the death warrant for us but has agreed to give us safe passage for this meeting. We may be able to convince him to let our theft go. The solar courts have a long history of standing together and are aware of the threat Hybern poses. Kallias and Vivienne from Winter are also interested in hearing the information we’ve gathered.”

“Which leaves Tamlin and Beron,” I said flatly.

Azriel answered for Rhysand, “We don’t know yet if he’ll come.”

Nodding faintly, I let the sound of their arguments over strategy and possible outcomes of the meeting wash over me. I didn’t want to be worrying over politics and petty power struggles. I wanted to kill Brannagh and Dagdan before they could harm my child.

As soon as the meeting drew to a close, I quickly ducked out of the dining hall and moved up to the open air of the training arena. A nervous energy made me edgy and irritable and I hoped that a long workout would be enough help ease that tension. I felt Rhysand’s presence appear behind me and addressed him without turning around, “You’d better not be here to tell me to go rest.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he purred, somehow standing close enough for his breath to whisper over the shell of my ear.

Sensing he was trying to tempt me away from training, I turned and pushed one of the long practice staves against his chest with a smile, “Good, then you can help.”

Rhysand gave me a smoldering look before removing his coat and beginning to unbutton his shirt. My eyes seemed glued to his chest as more of his tawny skin was exposed.

“What are you doing?” I asked and frowned when I heard how husky my voice sounded.

He looked innocently at me, “I’m getting ready to spar with you. I don’t want to ruin my shirt.”  
Narrowing my eyes at him, I got into a ready stance and waiting for him to pick up his own weapon. He did so with a muscular grace that made my mouth water, but I pushed those thoughts aside and gave him a quick salute.

He moved forward in a blur of speed that forced me to dance back to get out of his reach. Clearly, Rhysand was done trying to convince me to go inside using polite means. I grinned and unleashed the hold I kept on my own power as we met again in a crash of wood and power.

I managed to clip him once across his chest but the man fought like a machine, slamming his stave into mine over and over again until my hands were numb from the vibrations. My body was still weak and I struggled to maintain my defense against his relentless attack. 

Rhysand made a complicated move that seemed to yank my staff out of my hands as a sudden force threw me back against the wall. Before I could lunge for him again, a warm body was pressing me against the wall as a satisfied male voice purred in my ear, “I win.”

“You cheated,” I growled.

He laughed and ran his lips down the side of my neck as he pinned my arms above my head. “What am I going to do with you, Feyre darling?”

My smile was a little wobbly, “I can’t stay hidden and safe while you go off to war.”

He sighed and rested his head on my shoulder, “I know.”

We stayed there for a long moment as the world around us darkened into night. Finally Rhysand straightened and brushed a kiss across his cheek.

“You need to get dressed,” he said lightly, “We’re having a pre-meeting party tonight at the House of Winds.”

The thought of a party to celebrate the imminent meeting seemed like a nightmare but Feyre knew it was symbolic for the Inner Circle. A last hurrah before the war could prevent such an event for happening again.

I smiled and he let my hands fall to my sides with a final kiss. 

“Are you not coming with me?” I asked with an inviting tilt of my lips.

Rhys made a sound of remorse, “I have to finish a few things before we leave. I’ll meet you later.”

Nodding, I walked back to our rooms and straight into the steaming bath that was already waiting for me. Nuala and Cerridwen had been even more efficient in their care since the news of my pregnancy had spread but they were subtle enough that I didn’t mind.  
A shimmering pool of light was laid across my bed when I finally pulled my aching body out of the bath. I ran a finger over the silky material and marveled at the millions of tiny crystals that reflected the light and made erratic patterns around the room. It looked like living starlight.

Nuala and Cerridwen appeared a few moments later to help me into the gown and quickly arrange my hair. They created an intricate braid that framed my face but left the rest of my hair to fall in gentle curves down the exposed skin of my back.

The dress was glorious and I turned slowly in the mirror to admire it. The fabric was sheer enough that it appeared that the crystalline stars were floating around my bare body but for a few clever extra layers that protected my modesty. The bodice clung tightly to my chest before billowing freely around my legs. A daring slit displayed the muscled skin of my thigh each time I moved. 

I turned at the gentle knock on the door but instead of finding my mate, I was surprised to find Azriel waiting for me. The shadowsinger’s eyes widened slightly as he took in my outfit before a slow grin split his face, ”Rhysand is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you in that.”

Grinning with him, I let him wrap his arms around my waist and leap off my balcony into the night.

We landed on the terrace outside of the House of Winds and I frowned at the darkness inside the building.

“Where is everyone?” I asked cautiously.

As if my question was the signal they’d been waiting for, slow trails of light burst to life and ran along the outline of the trellis that arched over the small alter at the edge of the balcony. My eyes widened as thousands of tiny fireflies floated in the air around me, lighting the space around us and exposing the grinning faces of the Inner Circle, my sisters, and…

Rhysand stood beneath the glowing alter in the same black tunic and pants he’d been wearing that night for Calanmai. His eyes seemed to blaze at me from across the small space, warming me to my soul.

“What’s going on?” I said breathlessly, staring into the eyes of my mate.

He smiled, “I don’t want to go to this meeting without all of Prythian knowing what you mean to me. To the Night Court.” His eyes drifted to my still-flat stomach, “What our child will mean.”

“Marry me.”

I was nodding before he got the words out, happy tears running down my cheeks. He was at my side in an instant, brushing away my tears, and kissing me until my head was spinning.

Amren grumbled from somewhere nearby, “They could at least wait until after the ceremony.”

Laughing, I laced my arm through his and let my mate lead me to the alter and priestess who stood waiting for us with a happy smile.

I couldn’t hear the words of the sacred ceremony. Too lost in a happiness that I thought I’d never feel again. Too lost in the feelings of love and a matching happiness that resonated through our bond.

At the priestess’ cue, Rhysand turned to me, “I pledge my life, my love, my soul to you. You will be my equal in every way; you will wear my crown and sit on the throne beside mine. You are my queen from now until we the day we rattle the stars from the sky.”

My voice shook with the emotion that continued to roll down my cheeks, “I pledge my life, my love, my soul to you. I see all of you, Rhysand, and there is not one part of you that I do not love with every piece of my broken, healing heart. I will stand with you through eternity and see every day like the gift it is.”

The priestess linked our hands together as the familiar burn of a magical bond began to trace lines over our entwined hands. “By the Cauldron’s power and the Mother’s might, I bind you together for so long as you both my live and bestow the title of High Lady upon Feyre Archeron, Cursebreaker.”

We turned to the small crowd of the people who loved us with matching smiles as they cheered and whistled. I caught Cassian giving Nesta a big kiss on her cheek and laughed when she elbowed him in the ribs. 

The priestess gently placed a delicate silver crown upon my head and I watched my mate’s glow with a primitive possessiveness at the sight of the symbol of my position in his Court. I am the High Lady of the Night Court, I thought to myself, awestruck. 

You will always be my High Lady, Rhys purred.

As one, the Inner Circle knelt on one knee with their hands over their hearts and pledged their loyalty to me. Nesta and Elain looked on with varying degrees of happiness and I wished that my father could have been here.

Cassian stood and wrapped an arm around an annoyed looking Amren, “Now, let’s celebrate our new High Lady in style!”


	23. Chapter 23

The light and laughter of the night before seemed a distant memory in the watery rays of dawn the next day. I stood silently next to Rhys staring down at Velaris as we waited for the rest of the Inner Circle to arrive so we could winnow to Adriata. His thumb brushed my spine in a comforting gesture where his hand rested against the exposed curve of my back.

Rhysand’s mysterious tailor had created yet another marvel for me to wear to the meeting of the High Lords and my first debut as High Lady of the Night Court. It was made of dark fabric that hugged my curves like a lover’s touch. A high collar curled around my neck before dropping low to expose the barest curve of my breasts. Short sleeves made the top appear almost modest—until I moved and the long line of my thigh was exposed by the high slit in the skirts. 

The dress had no extra jewels or gleaming crystals that would compete with the mastery of fae craft that had been carefully woven into my hair by Cerridwen and Nualla. The crown looked like it had been sculpted from liquid starlight and felt heavy and unusual on my head, but it was necessary. My eyes drifting down to the ring on my finger that matched my new crown.

The symbol of everything I loved—and all I had to lose.

In a practical sense, it was a costume meant to ensure that no one could dismiss me as a power in the room. But I hadn’t been thinking of political strategy when I’d stepped out of the bathing room where Nuala and Cerridwen had helped me dress and watched a dark heat build in Rhysand’s eyes, echoing down the mate bond until my body reacted like a flower to the sun.

That heat had faded as the chimes of the clock on the mantle reminded us that we were running out of time. I felt numb, cold with the knowledge that today I would see Tamlin once again and face the consequences of his alliance with Hybern.

Now I stood look a shell of myself, reminding myself that I was not alone. That I was not weak. I was the High Lady of the Night Court.

I would not let Brannagh, Dagdan, or Hybern hurt me or those I love again—even if it meant facing Tamlin’s hypocrisy.

The sound of raised voice distracted me from my thoughts as Azriel, Mor, and Cassian walked up the steps onto the large balcony outside of their meeting room. Both males were dressed in their fighting leathers, siphons twinkling with lethal power in the morning light. 

Mor was dressed as though she were preparing for another type of fight entirely. Her hair was swept up away from her face in a complicated braid that drew attention to the expanse of tanned skin that was exposed by her gown. She wore her trademark red dress, only a shade or so darker than the gown I’d first seen her in and I wondered if she avoided the bright red color for my sake.

I could see her own demons fighting for control behind her eyes and in the tension that bracketed Azriel’s mouth as he hovered at her side. None of that inner struggle could be heard in her dramatic sigh as she walked across the balcony towards us. “Sorry we’re late,” she said with a glare towards Cassian, “someone took too much time admiring themselves in the mirror.”

“I had to ensure the ladies of Summer wouldn’t be disappointed,” Cassian said with a smirk.

“You mean that Nesta wasn—“ Azriel’s sly comment was cut off with a grunt as Cassian slammed his elbow into his gut.

Apparently Nesta and Cassian’s silent battle to see who would cave first was still in effect, I thought with a smile.

They have been insufferable for the last two months.

I laughed at Rhysand’s exasperated mental tone and reached out to link my hands in his as he said, “We need to get moving.”

All humor disappeared from their faces as they lined up behind us. Rhysand’s magic curled around us like a cool wind and I felt the pull at the pit of my stomach that indicated we were winnowing far from the Night Court, to the city that I never expected to see again.

Adriata.

We reappeared in a large courtyard that overlooked the glittering expanse of the ocean. The magic of summer seemed to thrum through my veins as though the proximity of the water called to it. 

“Welcome,” a cool voice said and I dragged my eyes away from the waves to the familiar face of Varian, Tarquin’s captain of the guard and Amren’s lover.

I tried not to let that knowledge seep into my expression when his eyes swept over our group and a flicker of disappointment that moved over his face an instant before a polite expression settled in. “Tarquin has guaranteed safe passage for your party for the length of the meeting and a reasonable amount of time for you to prepare to leave.”

Silently I noted that the courtyard was filled with guards who were watching us with more interest than was strictly necessary.

“You are not to leave the palace except with members of the palace guard. Any attempt to move outside of the complex will be considered as an act of war.”

I wondered if it was easier for Varian to issue that threat without the silver eyes of Amren daring him to back it up. 

Rhys gave a stiff nod, “I agreed to these terms when we arranged this meeting. We have no intention of causing more discord.”

Waving us forward, Varian moved towards the main building. All around us I could see curious courtiers and attendants watching the arrival of the High Lords with interest as harried looking servants wove through their midst, focused on their tasks. 

“Who has arrived?” Rhys asked Varian, his expression shuttered behind the familiar haughty mask of the High Lord of Night. The sight of it made me want to cup his butt and make it slide away with a familiar smirk, but I only listened as Varian replied.

“Helion arrived last night and Kallias, Beron, and Theson came this morning.”

And Tamlin? I wanted to ask, but knew the words would never come.

Rhysand nodded as though that wasn’t a surprise to him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted Tamlin to come to the meeting and risk Hybern learning of the potential alliances. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to see Tamlin after what he’d done. Somehow, I couldn’t find the courage to ask.

Instead I sank into the mate bond like a warm bath, surrounding myself with the love and courage of my mate that he gave so willingly. His hand trailed down my arm to lace his fingers through mine.

Are you ready to introduce the world to the High Lady of Night?

My smile was nearly feral as a guard reach to open the massive doors that led to the meeting room. Let’s go start a war.

Varian swept into the conference room terrace overlooking the sea where we met with Tarquin and his cousins only months ago. To the east lay the glittering sea that bordered the Summer Court. I wished we could be walking along the beach with the waves brushing against our ankles instead of facing the political minefield of a meeting of High Lords. I let my eyes wander over the familiar cheerful city streets and around the decorative vines that curled around the white columns of the terrace to the massive table at the center of the space.

Then, when I’d run out of ways to avoid doing so, I finally looked at the High Lord of Summer.

Somehow it felt like it had been years since I’d seen the pale haired male who’d made me laugh and second guess everything I’d set out to do. Tarquin’s eyes were carefully blank when he looked up at the sight of our delegation. Though the other high fae gathered stood politely, he remained sitting at the head of a large table, staring at the crown on my head. Slowly his eyes drifted to my face and his lips twisted into a sardonic smile.

“Welcome to my court.” Try not to steal anything this time seemed to hang unspoken in the air between us.

Rhysand gave a polite bow to him, “Thank you for agreeing to hold this meeting.”

My eyes drifted over to the rest of the small crowd gathered. Beron stood with a haughty look near his eldest son, Eris. They were dressed in shades of burnt orange and red that reminded me of Lucien’s hair. Both lords of Autumn were watching Mor as she stood between the other members of the Inner Circle and I could feel their response like a bright wave of white hot violence. Eris made a show of slowly running his eyes down the revealing red dress that had seemed like Mor’s armor this morning. 

Now I understood it was a challenge.

“Nice to see you still dress like a whore after all these years, Morrigan,” he drawled.

Without warning, dark shadows seemed to move of their own accord toward his throat as Azriel lunged for him. Only a quick move from Rhys kept him from leaping over the table and throttling Eris in front of all these witnesses. Cassian surged forward as well but Mor grabbed one of his arms and I grabbed the other, straining against his momentum.

Tarquin was on his feet now, “There will be no blood spilled during these proceedings!” A wave of water circled around him in silent threat. “If you cannot control yourselves, you can leave.”

I thought he was directing his anger to the Illyrians that had finally stopped struggling to get free and were panting in fury but his eyes remained focused on Beron and Eris. Maybe the news of what they’d done to Mor had spread beyond the Night and Autumn Courts.

A pale, blonde male cleared his throat gently. “Perhaps we should focus on the enemy of all of us,” he murmured. Kallias, High Lord of Winter.

His wife smiled cheerfully, “This meeting has already become more exciting than I expected.”

The last male of the group, golden haired and eyes twinkling, winked at her. “You’re such a blood thirsty little thing, Vivianne. When can I finally lure you away from boring old Kallias?”

Kallias growled, but Vivianne only looked up at her husband with a love that made my heart hurt. His irritated expression softened immediately as he answered for her, “She would eat you alive within a few days, Helion.”

Helion laughed and sank back into his chair as the tension in the room began to ease slightly. Tarquin gave a sweeping gesture to the group and we took our seats, Azriel and Cassian remained standing at our backs, glowering at the members of the Autumn Court.

“Have you heard from Spring?” Beron asked gruffly, still clearly annoyed by Mor’s presence. She sat calmly across from him as though she were bored by the promise of violence that still lingered in the air.

I tried not to hold my breath—not sure what answer I was hoping for. Rhysand’s hand brushed against mine as he lounged in his chair, every bit the arrogant High Lord who’d survived the horrors of Amarantha. 

“No,” Tarquin replied, “our last reports placed him moving with Hybern’s troops through Spring.”

I would have torn apart the world to save you. Tamlin’s words seemed to linger like a cloud around me and I focused on keeping my features impassive as the High Lords began to discuss the movement of soldiers through Prythian. Vivianne’s bright eyes remained sympathetically on mine as though she sensed my inner turmoil.

“We have reports that a portion of Hybern’s army were stationed in the region between Day and Night,” Azriel said calmly, not hinting at how that information was gathered.

I stared at the light wood of the conference table and focused on taking deep, even breaths.

Beron took a breath and waved a dismissive hand towards one of the servants who’d appeared with wine and fruit. “I fail to see why Hybern moving against the Night Court requires the might of the combined courts. He has not declared war on anyone but Rhysand and his stolen mistress.”

It was hard to tell where the growl came from but it was ferocious enough that Beron reached for his magic in response. Beside me, Rhysand had gone very still.

“Watch your mouth, High Lord, or it’ll be ripped from your skull,” he purred and I watched a red flush rise in Beron’s face. Eris looked intrigued.

The air in the room became hot, as though we were in the midst of a heat wave and I had to look at my hands to ensure it wasn’t my magic that was causing it. Tarquin and Kallias stood and I felt a wash of freezing air blow through the room to combat Beron’s fire.

“Control yourself!” Kallias snapped. “Hybern may not have declared war against every court but we all know it is only a matter of time. He will not be satisfied with the Night Court’s lands.”

“You should be more concerned with what he plans to do with the Cauldron.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone turned at the sound of the newcomer’s voice. Cassian stepped closer to me and even Azriel seemed to be holding his breath against the raw violence that was shimmering in my mate’s eyes. Clenching my fists, I forced back the rising fury and panic and slowly turned to face the High Lord of Spring.

Tamlin’s eyes were blazing with an emotion I couldn’t name as he slowly raked his eyes over the crown on my head and the Illyrians surrounding me. Then his lips quirked into a sardonic smile, “Hello, Feyre.”

 

 

Hello darling readers!

Let me begin with an apology for the loooong wait between chapters. My muse went missing and I got distracted with a new story that I’m hoping to release soon. It’ll be an OC with a member of Amarantha’s court and Kallias’ son. If you like Six of Crows or any thieving adventure along with a good romance, it should be right up your alley. Hopefully you’ll fall in love with Rhone and Kali like I did. 

For those of you who reviewed or asked me for more chapters, thank you so much! You remind me that I’m not writing in a vacuum and help motivate me to keep going when I get stuck. Please continue to comment/review!


	24. Chapter 24

Tarquin stood, breaking the rising tension in the room, “Tamlin, I’m so glad that you were able to arrive. We weren’t sure if you got our messages.”

“So glad to be included,” Tamlin said smoothly, not taking his eyes off of me. “There is so much I’d like to say.”

I expected heat or the claws that had ripped into my palms so many times in the Spring Court. Instead, I just felt cold. Hollow.

Rhysand reached out as I realized that frost was spider webbing across the edge of the table and gripped my hand. Tamlin’s eyes tracked the movement and I watched them darken with the same rage that vibrated down the mate bond.

A flash of familiar red hair edged around Tamlin’s shoulder and I managed to drag in a lungful of air at Lucien’s relief, “Feyre.”

I managed a slight smile at him, “Lucien, I’m glad to see you.”

“But not me?” Tamlin’s voice made my stomach clench and I finally met his eyes.

“Are you here representing the Spring Court or Hybern?” I asked softly.

His nostrils flared at the implication and I felt Cassian and Azriel move closer to me in silent support, close enough that I felt Cassian’s silent chuckle. Tamlin prowled across the room and took the chair opposite me in a silent dare for someone to contest his right to do so. Lucien stayed against the wall, watching Cassian, Azriel, and Mor with caution.

“Now that we are all assembled,” Tarquin began cautiously, “we may address the threat that is posed to Prythian.”

“Yes, Tamlin,” Rhysand sneered, “why don’t you tell us all about life inside Hybern’s camp?”

I was watching Tamlin’s face so closely I was able to catch the almost imperceptible flinch at the reminder of what he’d done to get me back. It made nausea curl in my gut at the reminder of all the blood and pain that had been created because of his need to keep me. To control and shelter me from the world.

“What is Hybern planning to do with the Cauldron?” Kallias asked before Tamlin could snap something back at Rhysand.

Tamlin’s lengthened nails dug into the wood of the table, scarring it permanently. Just like he had me.

“He’s going to rip down the Wall.”

The whole room seemed to hold its’ breath as we considered the implications of what that could meet. Fear and panic rose in my chest, choking me. Making me want to run, to fight, to call on my magic and prove that I could stop this.

Without realizing it, I was standing, staring down at Tamlin. “We have to stop him,” I growled, “You have to—“

“There is no ‘we’—not anymore,” Tamlin snapped, “You destroyed what we had the moment you went crawling back to him.”

“Shut your mouth,” Rhys snarled, but Tamlin wasn’t finished. He turned his attention to my mate with a look of pure hatred and malevolent intent.

“How does it feel getting my leftovers, Rhysand?” he purred, running his tongue over his lips with a calculated implication. “Does she still make that delicious little sound when she--?”

This time it was Rhysand lunging across the table with Cassian and Azriel leaning their full weight against him, struggling to slow his violent momentum. Tamlin continued to lounge in the chair, waiting for the attack that would allow him to tear into Rhysand in front of the other High Lords.

I stepped between them, knowing that Rhysand would never hurt me and smiled slowly at Tamlin. “With Rhysand, it isn’t a ‘little sound.’”

Behind me, I heard Cassian’s shocked laugh and Rhysand finally begin to stop fighting their hold.

Wicked, cruel thing, he purred against my mind.

Tamlin looked like he wanted to slap me and I could sense the Illyrians preparing to defend me should he act on that impulse. Before he could move, I placed my palm on the table with my tattoo laying stark against my skin and leaned forward, voice low and intense. 

“I don’t know how much they told you about what was done to me in that camp-“ pain flickered across his expression, but I refused to let him pretend it didn’t happen, “-but you know what Dagdan and Brannagh were capable of. You know how long they were able to keep me, hidden away from any allies or friends that could help me.” 

The whole room was silent, holding their breaths as the truth of my disappearance came to light.

“You knew what you were bargaining for when you went to Hybern and you had to have some idea of what could happen if you left me with him. They tortured me—“ my voice cracked, and I had to take a breath before continuing,” and they did everything in their power to ensure I would not come back from what they did to my body and mind.”

The birds singing outside the terrace seemed jarring against the horror and pity that seemed to fill the silence around me. I ignored the others, focusing on the male I’d loved so much I was willing to destroy myself for him.

But I was done being his victim.

My power sang through my blood like the fey wine that muddled my brain and released my inhibitions as a human. Waiting for my call. Waiting for me to claim what I truly was.

“I am the High Lady of the Night Court,” I said evenly, power echoing in every syllable, “and you will address me with the respect I deserve. So that one day maybe, maybe we can move beyond your alliance with Hybern and discuss our personal history once more. Until then, focus on the real enemy.”

As if in punctuation to my declaration, the terrace was suddenly rocked as something large smashed into the walls of the palace. For a moment, I was concerned that I had lost control of my powers somehow and they’d lashed out at the structure around us.

Then the screaming began.

Tarquin raced to the edge of the terrace, staring in horror at the thick black smoke that was slowly trailing up into the clear blue sky. Rhysand and Kallias were hot on his heels and the Lord of Winter gave an inventive curse that made Cassian grunt in approval.

“Hybern’s forces are here,” he said and made a gesture to Vivianne, who was already moving toward the door, barking orders at their soldiers outside.

I was still close enough to Tamlin that I saw the guilt flicker in his eyes. Grabbing his shirt, I practically pulled myself over the table, “Did you know?”

His eyes met mine, heartbreakingly familiar and still carrying the echoes of a love lost. “No,” he whispered and I slowly relaxed my grip until his tunic slid free.

“How many?” Tarquin asked the room.

“At least a couple thousand on this side,” Eris said calmly, running his thumb along the sword strapped to his side.

“Do you have the men needed to hold Adriata?” Rhysand asked Tarquin urgently.

Debris fell from the ceiling and an awful , grating shriek rose up from the wall as another magical projectile was flung against the stone. Soldiers in dark uniforms poured through the gaps in the wall, meeting the straggling groups of Summer soldiers who came to meet them.

I could feel Rhysand making calculations through my bond and I met his eyes as he came to the same conclusion I did—he would need to winnow the soldiers here. Leaving me alone in the Summer Court among enemies.

Go, I said firmly, I can take care of myself.

You carry my heart with you, he murmured and I could see how much this decision was already costing him. Could feel it in the way he was still clinging to our mental link, as though assuring himself it was still there.

“I have men nearby. I can winnow them closer and give your forces a chance at breaking their charge,” Rhysand said quickly to Tarquin. 

Kallias raked a hand through his pale hair, “My men are too far away to reach here in time, but I will help where I can, Tarquin.”

I couldn’t say I was surprised that Beron didn’t offer any of his men.

Mahogany skin seemed to gleam in the light as the High Lord of Summer turned to face my mate, calculation in his pale eyes. Which enemy would he decide to face today? 

Finally, Tarquin nodded and Rhysand quickly wrapped his arms around me in a crushing embrace that felt far to short, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Be safe,” he whispered before turning his attention to his Inner Circle.

“Azriel and Cassian, help the soldiers at the wall,” he ordered, every bit the general and warrior of legend. “Mor, stay with Feyre—“ he leveled a cool look at Tamlin, “—kill him if he touches her again.”

Mor gave a vicious little smile, “With pleasure.”

Rhysand gave me one last, lingering look before handing me an Illyrian blade and disappearing in a burst of stars and inky night.


	25. Chapter 25

The terrace and Summer palace was a riot of activity and panic as soldiers and servants scrambled to respond to the unexpected attack. Thesan, Helion, and Beron winnowed away after brief conversations with Tarquin to ensure that Hybern’s forces were not attacking their own lands. 

I used the edge of the sword Rhys had given me to cut away the length of my skirt so that it wouldn’t tangle in my legs if I was forced to defend myself. Mor did the same and I noted that Tamlin was watching me with a guarded expression.

Adrenaline and nerves pounded in my blood like a drumbeat and it gave me the courage to arch an eyebrow at him. “Did you need something?” I asked, a little too sharply to be strictly polite.

“He…” Tamlin seemed to hesitate before continuing. “He lets you fight.”

Suddenly it felt like I was back in the Spring Court, watching him leave me trapped behind invisible walls. My lungs seized and the ocean air suddenly felt thick and heavy on my tongue. I forced myself to breathe through it and stare out at the bright water on the horizon until my chest no longer felt tight.

“Rhys doesn’t let me do anything,” I replied firmly, “I choose to fight.”

“Damn right,” Mor said with an approving smile, “We all do.”

Tarquin gestured for Tamlin to come over to him and Lucien took the opportunity to move closer to me. Guilt hung heavy in his expression as he fiddled with the hilt of his sword. “Feyre, I--” he began but I cut him off.

“I know.”

“I thought I could protect you if I stayed,” Lucien whispered jaggedly, eyes staring fixedly at the stones at our feet.

Gently, I reached out to touch his arm. “I know,” I said again and was rewarded with the mismatched gaze of the first friend I’d made in Prythian.

The pain in his eyes reminded me that I was not the only one who’d lost something Under the Mountain and in the months following. That I wasn’t the only one hurt by Tamlin’s twisted love.

“We can talk more after this,” I said quickly and watched him clench his jaw, meeting my eyes finally, his golden eye focusing on me.

“I want to go with you.”

I hesitated, “I don’t know if Elain…”

“It’s more than Elain. I want to see the Court willing to crown a High Lady and was able to win your loyalty.”

“It’s not the court that won me.”

He smiled, looking at the protective way Mor lingered by my side pretending not to be eavesdropping, “I’m glad.”

Another barrage struck the walls of the Summer Palace, interrupting our conversation and returning our attention to the fight at hand. The gathered generals and messengers scattered as their High Lord dismissed them to begin pulling on his own golden armor. Tarquin made a gesture to the other High Lords that remained on the terrace, “Return to your lands and make sure this isn’t a multi-faceted attack. We have enough men to push back this attack.”

As if he’d been summoned, I felt my mate bond draw tight in a way that had me moving to the edge of the terrace balcony for a better view. Rhysand appeared in a mass of smoke and ash, surrounded by the familiar shape of his Illyrian warriors at the edge of the city wall. My heart seemed to leap in my throat at the sight of all that power contained within one male.

He was magnificent.

Rhys must have made some kind of command because the Illyrians rushed forward as a unit, slamming into the exposed flank of Hybern’s soldiers, forcing them to defend against the might of Summer and Night. I clenched my fists at my side, urging them on silently from my vantage point. My mental shields remained strong to keep my nerves and thoughts from distracting my mate as he ripped through the confusing mass of a soldiers.

There was a cheer from those gathered around me as the iconic uniforms of Hybern fell before the double onslaught and called for a retreat. Rhysand signalled for his men to fall back behind the safety of the palace walls to ensure that the city would be protected. I let out a long breath, not sure how long I’d been holding it. Already the air was thick with the scent of smoke and bloodshed and my heart grieved for the people of Adriata.

Tamlin bowed to Tarquin, “I’ll take my leave then.”

Tarquin nodded and for a moment, familiar green eyes met mine. His lips pursed and he gave me a brief nod before turning to Lucien. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I could tell from the tension in their shoulders that they were both unhappy. Finally, Tamlin made a cutting motion with his hand and stalked away.

Lucien remained behind, watching his friend’s back disappear behind the intricately carved wood. I wondered where Tamlin would go. Back to Spring? Or to report the failed attack to Hybern?

A battle horn sounded from the city behind me and I turned to see the sight that remained fresh in my nightmares. Row and after row of soldiers now stood on the sandy beach that ringed Adriata. My stomach dropped as I tried to count the legions of fae--trying to comprehend how they could have arrived so suddenly. From this distance, I could barely make out the nightmarish creatures that had ridiculed me in Hybern’s camp. A familiar, endless magic curled around my senses like a dark void.

The Cauldron.

Nausea made a cold sweat break out along my skin and I clenched my fist to disguise my shaking hands. Tarquin came up beside me, both our eyes glued to the familiar flag signalling the presence of a monarch. “Mother protect us,” he whispered.

I had no such hope left in my heart as a group of Hybern’s men gathered to meet with the bedraggled remains of Summer’s forces under the flag of truce. There was a slight popping sound and the smell of sea air as Tarquin winnowed down to join Rhysand on the battlefield. They stood, strong and resolute at the head of their combined forces, waiting to see what Hybern intended.

Mor paced at my side like a caged animal, but I remained rooted in one place, my eyes fixed on the two groups meeting in the center of what was to be their battlefield. As if through sheer force of will, I could keep my mate and everyone I loved safe. Carefully, I let my shields lower so I could listen in to the first official meeting between Hybern and Prythian’s defenders.

Rhysand opened his mind willingly, letting me feel his restless anticipation as they watched the small contingent of the opposing army approach. I was surprised when he recognized the messenger that marched at the head of the group as one of the males he’d fought against in the great war, but the two faces I wanted to see were nowhere to be found.

Where were Dagdan and Brannagh?

Surely Hybern would not have led an army so openly into battle without his two favorite generals at his side. My hands closed around the hilt of the blade Rhysand had given me, my knuckles bright white with the strain. I needed to find them. I could not breathe easy until I knew they were dead.

“The King of Hybern has graciously offered this chance for you to surrender your lands peacefully, High Lord Tarquin,” the messenger said in an imperious tone that made me want to punch him.

“He has attacked my lands without provocation or formal declaration of war and he has the gall to claim this to be peaceful?” Tarquin voice was more scornful than I’d ever heard it.

“You chose to harbor an enemy of Hybern within the walls of your city and make plans to wage war on our army--this behavior could not go unpunished.”

Guilt warred with the cold fury that was my mate’s mind as he listened to this exchange. My heart hurt with the realization that Rhysand did not expect Tarquin to stand with him in this fight. That he was preparing himself to fight a battle he knew he could not win.

“I am a High Lord,” Tarquin said in a low voice that radiated fury, “not one of Hybern’s lackeys. Tell your king that if it’s a war he wants the Summer Court is happy to provide.”

No one seemed surprised that this meeting would not prevent the battle brewing on the plains. When the messenger turned his attention to Rhysand, I had the sinking suspicion that the real purpose of the truce was about to come to life.

“Hybern sends his regards to your mate.”

The blow, when it came, was so fast that I nearly missed it, even from my vantage point within Rhysand’s mind. One moment he was standing with his hands resting comfortably in his pockets, and the next, his fingers were wrapped around the messenger’s neck, nail breaking through the thin layer of skin to wrap around his esophagus. For one terrifying moment, Rhys met the shocked gaze of Hybern’s general before he ripped his throat out in a spray of blood that coated his fighting leathers and those around him.

There was a moment of silence as the group stared at the twitching body laying at Rhysand’s feet. Slowly, Rhys returned his hands to his pockets and kicked the body away so that it landed among his comrades, who leapt out of the way.

“Don’t,” he said in a voice like a yawning abyss, “talk about my wife.”

With a sudden burst of power, Rhysand pushed me away from his mind at the first sign of that terrible darkness bleeding through once more. I came to my senses feeling stunned, as though I was marked by the blood that stained my mate’s clothes. The thought of the same darkness that had once driven me out of sleep to comfort a High Lord I didn’t understand coming for Rhysand again made me want to winnow down to him. To tell him I loved each part of him--even those he hid away.

I love you, I whispered down our link. I intend to kiss you senseless when this is over.

There was a pause before a rush of love bled through the link and wrapped my senses in a kind of happiness no other male could create.

On the plains below, the two groups separated, each racing back to their troops to begin preparing for battle. A scream of rage and horror came up from the forces defending Adriata and I frowned, following their gestures to a large wooden stake that was being erected on the hill at the center of Hybern’s forces.

At first, I couldn’t make out what it was they were lashing to the crudely constructed cross. Then understanding began to trickle in--it was a body. Mor cursed, low and vicious but all I could hear was my blood thundering in my ears as I finally understood what fresh horror Hybern had concocted for Rhysand. 

After all, the body they let hang, naked and bruised, in a mockery of a flag was the same one they’d sent to Rhysand to prove that I was dead.

The body was mine.

___________________________________

 

Thank you for reading the latest chapter of Broken Dreams! Please continue to follow along and review any feedback you may have!

I’ve also released the first several chapters of my new story “The Thief and the Soldier” and would love for you to check it out if you’ve enjoyed my works so fae. If you love the world of ACOTAR and works like Six of Crows, you’ll love this new romantic adventure featuring the son of Kallias and a thief raised Under the Mountain. Here’s the link:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12875987/1/The-Thief-and-the-Soldier 

OR

[ **The Thief and the Soldier**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048616) (7056 words) by [**AvoidingAverage**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage)  
Chapters: 5/5  
Fandom: [A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/A%20Court%20of%20Thorns%20and%20Roses%20Series%20-%20Sarah%20J*d*%20Maas)  
Rating: Not Rated  
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings  
Characters: Rhysand (ACoTaR), Amarantha (ACoTaR), Kallias (ACoTaR), Vivianne Penhallow  
Additional Tags: Original Character(s)  
Summary:

Rhysand was not the only broken creature to escape the horrors of Under the Mountain. Now, a generation later, a new monster is working to bring Amarantha back to life and it's up to a mysterious thief and a High Lord's son to stop them.


	26. Chapter 26

Hybern’s men cheered at the sight of the small, battered body and I felt a violent maelstrom of power and emotion from my mate. All of my focus narrowed to that gruesome reminder of all that Hybern and his allies had done to me. Had stolen from my family.

Mor was saying something to me, but all I could focus on was breathing through the fear and fury that threatened to drown me. The bleeding broken creature that was nurtured under the ministrations of Brannagh and Dagdan clawed at me, begging for control. Begging for me to run while I still could. To hide.

The weight of the ring on my finger and the crown on my head seemed to anchor me in place. I could hear the sounds of a gentle symphony like a caress in my ear and I shut my eyes, sinking deep into the sound. Rhys was there in the darkness of my closed eyes, pushing aside his own turmoil to sink into our bond like an endless sea of night.

When I opened my eyes again, I was ready.

Mor looked concerned and I noticed she’d moved closer to form a living wall between me and the other fae standing around the terrace. The nobles and courtiers that had been milling around in the entrance were now watching the battle brewing below with a mixture of horror and bloodlust. Their eyes glowed with power and were fixed on the line of soldiers below. It reminded me that I was not among humans. 

You aren’t human any longer, a hated, inner voice reminded me.

It was true. My time in the human realm and interaction proved that there was no chance of me ever returning to the girl I’d been before. And I was glad for it.

The girl who had fallen for Tamlin, who had gone Under the Mountain for him, had died there. And in the cool darkness of that place between death and life, I emerged. I would not allow Hybern and his minions to take that from me.

Below me, a long, low trumpet sounded across the plains and a wave of eerie silence fell. A loud, pulsing beat slowly built from the fae gathered at Adriata’s wall as they banged the swords to their shields. Rhysand and Tamlin stood resolute at the front of their combined forces with Cassian and Azriel moving back and forth across the Illyrian lines that rose up into the sky.

I wanted to be there. Wanted to prove that I was no one’s victim and that I was fully capable of adding my own bodies to the pile. That I could make them regret their bloody reminder of all they’d done to me.

Perhaps I wasn’t so different from the fae any more.

Hybern’s soldiers screamed in rage and anticipation, craving the violence that lingered in the air, but their generals did not signal for them to advance. Tarquin’s armor flashed in the afternoon sun as his arm dropped and the Prythian forces surged forward. Arrows and magic cut through the air from both sides, trying to break the lines below.

I leaned forward, my eyes searching for familiar shapes and poured power down our link, giving Rhys anything he needed to end this.

A wave of inky darkness smashed into the front lines like the waves of the beach not far off. Even from this distance, I heard the screams shift from excitement to horror as Hybern’s soldiers were suddenly blind and vulnerable to the bursts of magic raining from above.

Those that managed to crawl their way free of Rhysand’s nightmare found themselves meeting the combined might of the Illyrians and the Summer soldiers. Blood sprayed in graceful arcs of violent intention and it was strange to watch something that would have horrified me a year ago with such disconnect. Now I knew that for every one of Hybern’s men that fell today was one less innocent at risk.

The wobbling mass of battered soldiers broke against the waves of the High Lords’ might and the protective fury of Summer. They surged forward into the middle of Hybern’s men, scattering their lines and forcing them to retreat back to their camp tents and supply carts.

My heart gave a painful lurch in my chest and I found myself subconsciously running my hand over my still flat stomach. Was this all it would take to defeat Hybern? Two High Lords working together in a cobbled together defense? We were missing something, but I wasn’t sure what.

“They’re going to do it,” Mor whispered, almost like a prayer.

I didn’t respond--distracted once again by a sensation I couldn’t see. My magic was boiling in my chest in a riotous dance, responding to a siren’s call I couldn’t hear. 

But I could feel it.

Pulling me to the edge of the terrace until only Mor’s grip on my arm stopped me from stepping out as though I could fly. Building in the air until it was a struggle to breathe, to think, to rationalize what was going on. My ears popped as the pressure built to a crescendo.

My chest was painfully tight so I clawed at my mate bond, screaming to Rhys.

The Cauldron!

I didn’t know what was happening or even if Rhysand could stop it but the panic inside me was out of my control. He had to get away. He had to be safe.

Run, Rhys!

I felt him turn his attention to me, trying to disengage from the clash of swords and battle around him, but I knew it was already too late. In a painful surge, the pressure broke and I felt the Cauldron’s magic burst through the plains, slamming into everyone like a blow and bringing us to our knees painfully.

One of the courtiers was screaming and I caught sight of another slamming into the conference table where our drinks remained untouched. Glass shattered and rained down like diamonds all over the city, adding to the chaos all around. It was lucky for us that the terrace was open and without many new hazards created with the shockwave of magic.

Wincing at my bruised knees, I helped pull Mor to her feet and turned to the battleground, heart in my throat.

“No…” I whispered in horror.

Below us, in the space where the Summer soldiers had made their stand to block the gaping holes in the city walls, stood a new army. They wore a dark red uniform, the gruesome color of old blood their only adornment. Compared to the wild violence of Hybern’s first army, these were utterly silent, controlled.

Waiting.

The Summer and Night soldiers scrambled to respond to the new threat but they were now trapped in between the two groups. I could feel Rhysand realizing the trap that had been set for them. His violet gaze seemed to meet mine even from this distance and I took a shaky breath.

I wished I could tell him to go. To take that massive power and use it to ensure the safety of the Inner Circle and our child and go home. But that would just mean a different kind of wound to Rhysand’s soul. So I told him the only thing I could.

I love you. Come back to me.

An ebony claw slowly traced the edge of my mental shield as he murmured back, As if I could ever leave you, Feyre darling. 

My smile was wobbly and I forced myself to consider our options. Straightening my spine, I raised my voice so the everyone on the terrace could hear. “Gather all of your able-bodied fighters and go to the gates,” I ordered to the shell shocked crowd. “Any magic users with ranged skills can assemble at the guard towers. Focus on breaking up their units and supporting any ground troops.”

When they hesitated, Mor snarled softly, “You have been given a command by the High Lady of the Night Court. Move.”

Finally, they began to scramble to attempt to raise a sufficient defense for Adriata and gather the remaining guards. I returned to my vantage point and eyed the new group of soldiers warily. Would they flank the exposed army of Summer and Night or invade the weakened city?

My answer came within moments as the group split--the larger portion moving to surround the rear flank of Adriata’s army while the smaller moved deeper into the city. 

Mor scowled, “We don’t have the manpower gathered to present any kind of coordinated counter attack.”

“We need to let them move deeper into the city.”

Her blue eyes flicked to me in surprise, “What?”

“If we can get them in the city,” I said, the beginnings of a plan forming in my mind, “we can surround them. Pick them off one by one and force them to choose between battling on the plains or sending more soldiers into the city.” Mor nodded, her attention moving back to the city wall as I continued, “See if we can find any officers in their midst and break up their coordination.”

She nodded, moving to speak with one of the servants nearby who was acting as a messenger to the rest of the palace.

Because her back was turned, she didn’t see the small force pause at the edge of the city, nearly standing on top of the meager defenses they’d cut down. Two figures emerged from the soldiers with a fluid grace that made ice curl through my veins. They slowly, leisurely, surveyed the ruins of Adriata before raising their heads to the terrace above the palace, finding me with the ease of a bloodhound. 

I saw the flash of teeth in a cruel smile before the smaller of the two waved cheerfully. The breath in my lungs seemed to disappear with the blood that was pounding in my ears and my hands clenched around my blade until it hurt. The two fae generals who so often graced my nightmares turned their backs on the terrace and signalled to the rest of their soldiers.

We meet again, Feyre darling, Brannagh whispered along the edges of my mental shield.

 

Thank you so much for continuing to read and review Broken Dreams! Seriously, you're all amazing for sticking with it for so long. The end of this battle will also be the planned in of this story so hopefully you'll enjoy the final showdown I have planned between Feyre and Brannagh/Dagdan. 

If you're worried about what story to check out next, I would love you to look at my new story, The Thief and the Soldier. I'm already in love with the characters and I'm hoping my readers will feel the same. Thanks for your consideration!


	27. Chapter 27

The first time I'd attempted to venture into the gloom and darkness of the overgrown woods behind our simple cabin, it'd been the middle of winter and bitterly cold. Nesta and Elain had snuck into the kitchen the night before and eaten the last of the puny, withered vegetables that we'd gathered from the overgrown garden left by the previous owners. All of the belongings from our house in the city worth anything had already been traded for food or supplies in the village.

So, guided by the sound of my rumbling stomach, Nesta's imperious order, and Elain's plaintive expression, I'd turned to the woods.

Snow was piled in deep drifts, disguising the brambles and bushes that were visible before the sudden snowstorm last night. I stumbled and forced my way into the trees, eerily aware of the fact that I was making the only noise in the muted silence of the snow. Panting, I'd finally stopped to lean against a tree where the snow wasn't as deep to look around. My bow

As inexperienced as I was, I was beginning to understand how little a chance I truly had to catch anything in the dense snow drifts and I settled deeper in my makeshift shelter to catch my breath and force back the burn of tears. How was I supposed to go back to the cabin with nothing but what I'd left with?

I took a deep breath and stopped at an unfamiliar sound nearby. Cocking my head slightly, I tightened my hold on the old bow and peeked around the edge of the tree and froze. Standing on the other side of the gnarled cedar tree was a bear. I froze, horror streaking through me at the sight and held my breath as the massive beast moved its head back and forth, nostrils flared as it scented the area.

My world seemed to narrow into a hyper focused panic as I waited to see if it could smell me from my hiding place. Glancing around at the snow, I realized that all I could hope to do was hide. Hide and hope that the bear would move on if it didn't immediately find me.

Slowly, as silently as I could, I ran my hands along the roots of the tree until my cold fingers brushed over the rough edge of a fist sized rock hidden beneath the snow. The bear was closer now and I could hear its chuffing breaths as it got closer to me cedar tree. Gripping the rock, I said a short prayer before I stood and hurled towards a strand of trees, striking one of the branches heavy laden with snow and knocking the mass loose.

The sound of the bear rushing forward was like a beautiful nightmare as it moving through the deep snow with ease, seeking the source of the noise. I contemplated making a run for it until I saw how quickly the massive beast could move even in the deep drifts. So I threw my bow over my shoulder and began shimmy up the trunk of the cedar tree, trying to get to the densest branches.

Each sound I made felt like I was screaming for the bear to come back this way, but I decided that it was best to get some distance between us before I slowed down. The sweet scent of cedar was overwhelming now and I was grateful for anything that might overpower my own scent. When I could go no further, I held on to the tree trunk and began to pray to any god that would listen.

I was forced to remain hidden in the tree that night, too cold and too frightened to move outside of its shelter and risk getting caught by another predator. The woods had been filled with strange creaks and groans that sounded like monstrous beast to my terrified mind. My fingers and toes slowly went numb and sleep lingered just beyond my reach for the entire night. All I could do was look up to the few stars visible through the canopy and hope that this wouldn't be where I died-alone and scared in an unforgiving forest.

Now I felt that ice and freezing wind moving through me, staring down at the burning city at the place where I'd last seen Brannagh and Dagdan. I didn't feel like a powerful High Lady-I felt like that scared girl in the face of her death.

My mental shields were so high now I doubted that even Rhysand would be able to sense anything from me through our mate bond. Perhaps that was best. If I did fall to Dagdan and Brannagh today, I didn't want him to feel my last moments. He needed to focus on his own fight.

As if in reaction to that thought, a horn sounded below and I watched in surprise as a familiar figure stood on the small hilltop at the edge of the battlefield, drawing the attention of everyone on the field. His back was straight, posture that same lazy confidence that I'd witnessed the night my world had been shattered. I didn't need to see the smirk on his face to recognize his identity-after all, I'd been living in close proximity to him for weeks.

Hybern. The king had finally made his appearance.

His armies cheered and I felt the intensity of the battle shift as the Prythian High Lords realized what was at stake now. If they could kill Hybern now, his kingdom's cause would be destroyed and what was left of their generals could easily be rounded up and killed by the combined might of the High Lords. Hope stirred beneath the ice and snow in my soul.

Maybe we could end this war today.

My breath caught in my chest as an Illyrian warrior rose up from the front lines of battle, flanked by two others wearing the iconic red and blue siphons at each pulse point. Rhys.

He was death incarnate as he leveled his sword in a blatant challenge to the king on the hilltop. Hybern's power, amplified by the Cauldron pulsed once in answer and Rhysand moved forward to meet him. Arrows streaked through the air at my mate, but fell harmlessly against the brilliant blue shield that was raised around them. A few passed through the magic and the three members of the Inner Circle were forced to dodge and climb higher in the sky to escape the archers' range. It looked like Hybern was still using his fae bane-tipped arrows to break through the magical defenses of his enemies.

Anger licked red hot against the ice in my soul at the reminder of what those arrows had once done to my mate. It gave me the strength to turn away from the battle to where Mor stood, eyes still tracking the movement of her friends. Her family.

"We need to go into the city," I said quietly and watched her look to me in surprise.

"Rhys said-"

"I don't care what he said-we need to secure Adriata if they are going to have any chance against Hybern. They won't last fighting against two armies." Both of us glanced back at the battle on the plains as a cheer rose up from the opposite side. The right flank of the Summer armies had begun to break under the onslaught and Hybern's forces began to push their advantage. Before they could do more than push the lines back a few feet, Cassian was streaking through the air to slam into the front lines in a burst of a red fury.

The Warhammer, I remembered belatedly, momentarily stunned as groups of soldiers were flung through the air before his wrath.

A new urgency pulsed through me at the realization that Cassian and the others would not be able to hold out against these overwhelming numbers for much longer and I turned back to Mor. "We can help hunt down the soldiers that made it into the city and give our armies somewhere to retreat to if they have to," I said quickly, already moving toward the door.

Mor nodded grimly and followed, our magic rising up in a swirl of mist and darkness as we winnowed to the burning city below.

Adriata was in chaos. Screams and the sound of burning buildings dimmed the sounds of battle outside and I felt my heart beat faster in response. Gripping my sword, I looked around quickly as though Dagdan and Brannagh would be waiting for me at the base of the guard tower where we'd reappeared, but saw nothing but panicked civilians.

Mor and I moved towards the guardhouse, stopping a harried looking officer carrying a pile of makeshift bandages. "Where is your commander?" Mor shouted over the din and the male pointed back towards the building.

Inside was a madhouse, full of shouting fae and a few injured soldiers who'd taken refuge in their midst. Mor put her hands to her lips and whistled a shrill note that made me wince. The soldiers stopped to stare at the beautiful blonde in their midst and she smiled indulgently at them, "We're here to help you find the group of soldiers that made it in to the city walls. Which one of you is in charge?"

"Me, ma'am," a young-looking male said. His face was covered in a gruesome mixture of blood and dirt, but he gave us a quick salute, eyeing the crown that was still nestled in my hair.

"Good lad. We need to get these civilians away from the wall and moving toward the other side of the city where they'll be safer-" He nodded to another officer standing by the door and she hurried away presumably to do just that, "-Everyone else needs to separate into units of tens and begin hunting down the soldiers that made it past the walls."

I walked to the array of weapons that were scattered around the room and selected a sturdy looking bow and slung a matching quiver across my back. I also found a sword belt that would hold the sword Rhysand had given me as well as a few knives. There was no way I would go into this battle unprepared.

"Let's go," I said, moving toward the door and Mor fell into step beside me.

A few of the soldiers followed after us, including the bloodied captain. "How will we know where to search?" he asked after we were in the sunlight once again.

"Follow the smoke."

My comment seemed punctuated by another scream of terror nearby and we quickened our pace. A few streets over, near the bustling marketplace I'd visited with Tarquin on my first trip to Adriata, thick smoke began to creep above the rooftops to mar the blue sky above us. I could smell the sickly sweet scent of blood over the sharp scent of burning cotton and sugar.

We were running now, adrenaline making our senses sharper and our steps quick. I pulled an arrow from my quiver and nocked it into my bow so that when we turned the first corner I was ready.

The marketplace was a chaotic mixture of fleeing Summer citizens, burning stalls, and Hybernese soldiers moving in their midst. My first arrow sank deep into the eye socket of a soldier raising his sword over a cowering woman clutching her child. He stumbled and went down in a heap, dead before he hit the ground.

Grim satisfaction swept over me as I selected my next target and let loose my arrow. It felt good to have a bow in my hand again and I felt some of my tension ease at the familiar motion. Once Hybern's men realized we were in their midst, I was forced to call on the water wolves that had saved me during the attack on Velaris. I wondered if any of the Summer soldiers would notice I was using their High Lord's power and was relieved to see a few other water animals moving against their attackers.

Mor stayed close-clearly staying true to her word to Rhys-and proved why she was a member of the Inner Circle with deadly grace. Three of the fae rushed towards us and Mor slid forward to meet their blades with her own, moving fast enough that even my eyes couldn't track her. She didn't bother with magic-just the cold steel of the short sword she'd borrowed from the guard tower. Within moments, she was stepping over their twitching bodies and gesturing towards another group of invaders moving deeper into the market streets.

They turned around a corner before I could get an arrow ready, so we raced through the intermittent fighting taking place along the main street to where they were heading. Twice we were forced to stop and help one of the Summer guards or citizens defend against Dagdan and Brannagh's soldiers. Each time I watched one of the blood red uniforms fall to the ground it felt like a blow against each of my tormentors. It felt like a small victory and proof that this battle was not over yet.

Finally, we reached the street that the group of soldiers had been moving toward and found ourselves in one of the smaller market places that branched off the main thoroughfare. I looked around and felt the invisible hand of fear curl around my throat, choking off my air. What was left of the stalls around us was covered in the remains of paintings and art pieces of varying sizes, smashed and scattered on the ground like brightly colored dreams. It reminded me so much of the Rainbow of Velaris that I had to lean heavily against the wooden building beside me.

Mor slowed and scanned the alley, before returning to me, "I don't see them. You don't look so good, are you hurt?"

I shook my head, eyes fixed on the stalls and walls around us.

They were painted a bright red-the same color of fresh blood and Amarantha's hair. Paint had been splashed like an arterial spray covering the paintings that had survived the initial looting. The old panic and mind-numbing fear that had sent me running from my own wedding rushed to the surface, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself to focus on the layout of the stalls and covering up my body's reaction to Mor. Though care had been taken to make it appear like the destructive effects of looters and roving bandits, I could read the message that had been left for me. If she figured out what was going on here, she'd chain me in the cells of the Summer Palace before she'd let me continue to fight in the streets.

Mor made a frustrated sound that our prey had apparently escaped and gestured to the other side of the alley, "I'm going to check for any stragglers. You stay here and catch your breath until I get back."

Her focus on stopping the soldiers was probably the last lucky break I'd get today and I obediently leaned against the wall to look winded as she moved away. I waited until she was out of sight before I finally approached the first stall on the street.

The cloth covering was hanging limply to one side, partially covering an overturned chair and a jug of the cool tea that was so popular in the Summer Court. Only the counter was intact, aside from a thick layer of red paint that coated every inch of it like a flag. In the center of the counter, propped with the empty can of paint sat one perfect painting.

Chest tight, I stepped closer, looking at the image of a small courtyard with a cheerful fountain in its center. Scrawled across the painting was a simple message.

Come alone.

Glancing back to where Mor was still looking down the streets and alleys for the fleeing soldiers, I made my decision. Before she could do more than open her mouth to shout for me to stop, I grabbed the painting and became ash and smoke.

 

Thank you for continuing to read Broken Dreams! A special thanks to those of you that took the time to review the story as well-it means a lot to me! We are coming up on the last chapters of this story so I encourage those of you who are in search of a new story featuring the world of A Court of Thorns and Roses to read my latest story, The Thief and the Soldier, or check out my Nessian one-shot, The Falling.

Thanks again for your support!


	28. Chapter 28

Hello reader darling! 

Thank you for continuing to read Broken Dreams. I'm planning to have two more chapters after this (and maybe an epilogue), so I wanted to take a moment to thank you for continuing to read this story of mine. For a number of personal reasons, I had lost my confidence about my ability to write anything. The fact that over 10,000 of you wonderful people have taken the time to read and support this has meant the world to me. Seriously.

Because Broken Dreams is coming to an end, I decided to begin publishing another ACOTAR story that I've been writing on the side for a while in conjunction with another amazing writer and I am SO EXCITED about it. Please take a moment and check out The Thief and the Soldier and let me know what you think!

Love,  
Avoiding Average

 

I reappeared outside of the guard tower on the far edge of the wall, past the gaping wounds in the city’s defenses. Only a few guards were stationed here on the off chance that Hybern’s soldiers made it this far into the city, but it was clear that it was suicide if it reached that point. Panic and anxious impatience could be seen written in their white knuckled grips on weapons and their wide eyes, but I couldn’t summon enough energy to reassure them.

 

Instinctively, my eyes went to the battle to the east and I found myself looking for him even though I knew I shouldn’t. Even though I knew the sight of him fighting would be torture knowing I could do nothing to help.

 

To my relief, the lines of Summer and Night soldiers were remaining strong against the double sided onslaught though I doubted they could remain that way for much longer. If we could get more soldiers in the city, we could hem in Hybern’s reinforcement the same way they’d done to Tarquin’s forces.

 

It seemed that even the land around us was struggling to come to its’ High Lord’s aid as the oceans surged and swelled to unnatural proportions. I caught a glimmer of Tarquin’s bright armor in the midst of his battered forces, hands raised and face twisted in concentration. The ocean rolled and pitched, drawing back from the shoreline to expose the dark sands and algae covered rocks that it sheltered. 

 

There was a moment of breathless anticipation and my breath stuttered in my chest.

 

Then the water was crashing forward in a wall of inescapable force and fury, smashing into the flank of Hybern’s army and dragging them back to the unforgiving depths off the coast. I wondered if the water wraiths that had saved me so long ago would eat their fill tonight. 

 

Even with an entire squadron lost to a High Lord’s fury, Hybern’s army continued to push the advantage of their numbers and within seconds they filled the gap he’d created. The soldiers on the wall beside me cursed and murmured prayers beneath their breath for the miracle it would take to win this ambush. For their city to remain standing.

 

I prayed too. Prayed that my mate would somehow be able to save these people without sacrificing himself.

 

A bright light suddenly burst like a captured sun above the walls and the world seemed to stop to watch the cascade rain over the armies below. I took a step forward, heart in my throat at the thought that another enemy was making themselves known. The orb seemed to hover for a long moment above the stunned crowds before blazing forward in a burst of speed and smashing into the reinforcements that were blocking the Summer and Night soldiers from Adriata.  
A cheer rang out from the wall and I felt hope burst painfully in my chest as a figure emerged from that brilliant light. At first I wondered if Helion had returned to help in the battle until my eyes finally adjusted to the glare. A short female, the ghost of massive wings fading behind her, stood like a beacon against the blood red uniforms on the field and I felt a grin of relief split my face.

 

Amren.

 

She tossed her dark hair away from her face and I could just see her quicksilver eyes narrowing on the fools who thought to attack her family and friends. Without giving the scattered survivors a chance to regroup, Amren streaked forward like a goddess of death and destruction. She was violence and war and the darkest desires of all living things.

 

She was magnificent.

 

Seeing her fight and wipe away the advantages of Hybern’s army took away my last excuse to hesitate. My fingers tightened around the painting that was still clutched to my chest, the red paint staining my dress and sinking into my skin. I let myself watch the tide of the battle shift with Amren’s advance and was surprised when I realized I could no longer feel the endless expanse of the Cauldron’s magic.

 

Frowning, I concentrated my own magic and sent it out in a pulse, seeking the skeins of power that were laced across the plains. Searching for the root of every fae’s magic like a child to its’ mother.

 

But it was gone.

 

For the first time, I felt the brush of Rhysand’s attention through our link and I forced my walls to slam back into place. He couldn’t know what I planned, no matter what the outcome was. It still stung to block him when the broken part of my soul wanted to cling to his cool darkness and revel in each breath he took.

 

If he knew what I was doing, he would try to stop me and I couldn’t let that happen. Not yet.

 

So I turned to the soldier nearest me and held out the painting with the message hidden. “Where is this?” I asked quickly.

 

He eyed the picture and frowned, clearly confused as to why I wanted to know where a fountain was when there was a battle going on but he dutifully pointed to a park just visible through the city streets and buildings. “It’s in the city center, on the eastern side.”

 

I nodded my thanks and walked away, gathering my power like trails of inky darkness that swirled and consumed me, pulling me away from the wall and into the streets below.

 

Every step away from Mor and the wall rang like nails sealing my coffin, sealing my doom. All around me, the sounds of death and battle dimmed to a muffled roar against the beat of my heart. A few terrified citizens huddled in their homes and the alleyways of buildings, hoping to go unnoticed in the wave of violence that threatened to drown Adriata.

 

I wished I had it in me to comfort them, but my world had narrowed to the greenery I could make out at the end of the street.

 

Everything was leading to this moment. Every decision, every heartbreak over the last months would end today. I could feel the pull of fate dragging me forward like the bells that rang in our little village at each funeral.

 

My mental shields were built of adamantine steel and the ice that thrummed in my soul. As I walked, I checked and rechecked that my weapons were with me and my magic was pulsing through my veins. My water wolves paced at my side, keeping me company, while inky darkness flowed around me like a cape of smoke and midnight. 

 

I ran my fingers over my stomach, wishing I could feel the life inside me and be able to promise its’ safety. Closing my eyes, I whispered, “I’m sorry, little one. I can’t let someone else fight this fight.”

 

It was always mine.

 

If I had any chance of moving on, of healing the fractured pieces of my soul, I had to see the end of Brannagh and Dagdan. I had to take back the power and choice they’d stripped from me on the rack in Hybern’s camp.

 

The street and it’s neat little houses emptied onto the green lawns and manicured flower beds of the park. In contrast to the chaos at the wall, it was silent here. I looked around nervously as I realized that no birds or wildlife stirred in the trees around us. It sat silent as a tomb, backlit by the smoke of a burning city.

 

Water burbled somewhere nearby and I moved closer to the sound, my fingers closing reflexively around the hilt of my sword. It seemed strange to notice how beautiful my surroundings were against the ugliness of the upcoming confrontation. There was no doubt that this day would end in death--theirs or mine I couldn’t tell.

 

The fountain stood cheerfully in the center of the decorative paths, surrounded by bright pink and white flowers that showered the air with scent and delicate petals. Some dedicated artisan had carved intricate designs that mimicked the flowering trees that ran along the path and the iconic waves of the Summer coastline. Long limbed willow trees created curtains of pale green leaves and natural dividers that blocked my line of sight on the path. Heart thundering, I stopped at the fountain and turned, eyes darting around the clearing for a hint of my enemy.

 

“Good to see our training is still in effect-” a cold, haughty female voice called from my left and I spun to face it, “-you still come when we call.” Brannagh was leaning against the pale trunk of one of the largest willow trees with a cruel smirk on her face. “I was worried you’d forget your place after being away for so long.”


	29. Chapter 29

We stared at each other for a long moment, her confident smirk never fading and my water wolves pacing nervously at my side. I scanned the trees around me looking for the other half of this awful pair.

 

“Where’s your brother?” I demanded, wishing there was a way to protect my back from the attack I knew would come eventually.

 

Brannagh flicked away a pale petal that drifted down to land on her shoulder and gave me a mocking look. “And here I thought I was your favorite, little human.”

 

“I’m not a human.”

 

She pushed away from the tree and edged closer, prowling nearer with the casual grace of a born hunter. I tried not to feel like prey trapped in the gaze of a great serpent. A few feet away from me, she finally stopped and gave me a cruel sneer, “No matter how much magic you’ve stolen from your betters or which male you whore to, you will always be human. Weak and sniveling like the rest of your kind.”

 

Anger flared, white hot and riotous. “Shut up,” I growled. “You have no idea what I am.”

 

“Do you think that crown will hide the scars we created in the camps?” Brannagh purred, “Do you think that anyone will ever believe you to be one of them? All of Prythian will know exactly how weak and broken you truly are underneath that fake crown and pretty dress. I’ll be sure to tell them about all the moments you begged for me to end your pathetic existence. Do you think your mate will still keep you around?” 

 

Her words fell like blows from a whip and I felt a hot flush at the reminder of what they’d done to me. What they’d stolen.

 

I could feel her at the edges of my shield, the oily darkness of her presence seeping into the cracks and divots in the adamantine wall. My magic pushed her back, but it felt like she was everywhere at once and I could feel the strain of it in the cold bead of sweat that slid down my spine. The double assault was meant to weaken me, to distract me until she could press her advantage and invade my mind once again, but she’d forgotten something.

 

I was not the broken creature tied to her torture rack. Betrayed and vulnerable and so damn alone that it ate away at my strength until I was a shell of the woman I’d become.

 

I was not her prey.

 

Slowly, I smiled the cruel smile she’d taught me and met her surprised eyes. “It is a wonder that such a weak, insignificant creature still managed to defeat you and your brother,” I purred in the same voice taught to me by the High Lord of Night.

 

“You got lucky.”

 

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to watch you grovel at your uncle’s feet for your failure,” I continued, pressing my advantage. “I can’t tell you how often I imagined you being strung up on your lovely little rack and having all of your favorite tools be used against you. Tell me, Brannagh, did you scream the first time the whip sliced through the air? Or did wait until they started on your broth--”

 

My words were cut off as a heavy body slammed into my side, sending me flying through the air to land hard on the stones of the walking path. 

 

Dagdan. 

 

I’d been so wrapped up in my conversation with Brannagh that I’d forgotten to keep scanning for her twin and it was costing me. The larger male pressed his advantage, forcing my hands above my head and pinning me to the ground. Dagdan grinned at me, eyes dark. “I can’t wait to hear your sweet voice screaming for me again,” he whispered against my ear as I bucked and twisted in his grasp like a wild creature, “Why don’t you call for someone to help you? Have you finally realized that no one will save you from what we have planned for you?”

 

I sucked in a deep breath as if to scream, but called on my magic instead. A growl sounded nearby and Dagdan had enough time to look up before one of my wolves was on him, snapping and snarling in fury. A burst of hot flames gave me enough space to leap to my feet in time to meet Brannagh’s blade.

 

Within moments, it became clear why the twins were Hybern’s favorite generals as Brannagh’s age and skill forced me to remain on the defensive, mind torn between the magic needed to keep Dagdan at bay and my blade. She moved like the snakes I’d once seen in the circus tents as a child with my father. At the time, I’d thought them to be beautiful in their own way, all gleaming scales and lazy coils until they were pestered by the quick moving showman.

 

Now, it was all I could do to use every bit of the meager training Cassian had managed to instill in me before everything had gone to hell. I wished for the wicked grace of my mate that I’d witnessed in his bout with Azriel so long ago. Brannagh was relentless, pushing me back into the shade of the trees so I was forced to find my footing amid the knobby roots of the massive trees.

 

The first time I stumbled, her blade slice a deep groove across my bicep that made my hand spasm. She grinned, holding her weapon up to the light to admire the way the bright red liquid glinted in the sunlight. Grimacing, I moved my sword to my less dominant hand and gestured for her to come on.

 

SÎ´ (<\-----my toddler’s contribution to the final throwdown)

 

We met again with a new realization thrumming in my veins with each pulse of pain in my arm--Brannagh had no intention of killing me. 

 

When I’d fallen I’d done the one thing Cassian had worked for weeks to prevent: I’d dropped my guard. She could have slammed that knife into my heart or gutted me where I stood, but she’d only cut through the ligaments of one arm. 

 

I had no doubt that she would draw this painful encounter as long as she could.

 

The next cut made a blazing trail across my cheek after a failed strike left me overextended. Each slash of her blade was a reminder that my chances of ending this battle as a victor and not a victim were becoming more and more slim. Brannagh’s power crawled and paced at the edges of my mind and it was a struggle to keep my walls intact.

 

The continued drain on my magic and the difficulty of keeping Brannagh away was beginning to show. My breath came out in ragged bursts and my mind felt fuzzy, exhaustion pounding at my temples. Each pulse of my heart only increased my weariness and pain. I stopped trying to match Brannagh and focused on putting distance between us, using every bit of knowledge I’d gained in the woods near my village to move through the park’s trees.

 

Feyre!

 

Rhysand’s voice sounded distant, like he was shouting from somewhere out of sight and my head snapped up in surprise.

 

“Rhys,” I gasped, forcing myself to keep moving through the trees. Brannagh prowled nearby and I knew that I couldn’t truly hide in the manicured lawns and gardens. She was only toying with me.

 

Feyre! He called again and I knew he couldn’t hear me through our link with my shields so tight. Where are you?!

 

I wanted to open our link but a noise behind me had the new fear I’d found in Hybern’s camp blazing back to life. Once again I was alone and face to face with the monsters every human on the other side of the Wall imagined when they thought of the fae.

 

“How are you enjoying our new mixture of faebane, Feyre darling?” Brannagh called from somewhere to my left and I stiffened at her deliberate use of Rhysand’s favorite nickname. 

 

My exhaustion and pain was beginning to make a sick sort of sense. She’d poisoned me with the first slice of her dagger. Each line of blood helped the poison spread until my magic began gutter in my chest. 

 

A movement nearby made me look up in growing horror to the hulking form of Dagdan walking free of the trees with no sign of my water wolves. Brannagh moved forward in a blur of speed and tossed me to the ground once again. My sword clattered across the paving stones to land just out of reach and my breath whooshed out of my lungs in a painful rush.

 

“It took us ages to convince Hybern to let us recapture you again. I’ll admit I was surprised that your mate fell for our plan so easily--I expected at least a little bit of a challenge getting him to take his soldiers away from protecting you. All it took was a reminder of the little gift we sent him and off he went...in the wrong direction.” 

 

My mind went to the limp body Hybern’s army had draped like a gruesome banner at the head of their legions and realized it served as a siren’s song to my mate and his memories of the weeks I was lost to him. My heart sank as I realized how we’d all been manipulated into doing exactly what the twins wanted. Mother’s tits, I’d run away from Mor at the first sign of Brannagh and Dagdan in the city.

 

As I lay on the ground, gasping for air, I thought of the moment they’d winnowed into the city’s walls. Brannagh and Dagdan had completely ignored the soldiers fighting around them to practically gesture for me to join them. I’d been so consumed with the thought of my revenge that I ignored every sane thought in my head and rushed to meet them.

 

“Is Hybern even here?” I asked dully.

 

“Of course not. He has more important things to do, but he is so excited to have you as a guest once again,” Brannagh stepped closer, letting her eyes skim over my prone body, still struggling for air, and paused on my belly. “Imagine how excited he’ll be when he finds out about the baby.”

 

My eyes went to my sword laying only a few feet away from my outstretched fingers, but a flash of blinding agony seared over my arm and startled a scream of pain from my lips. I stared in horror at the knife that pinned my arm to the stones below me in horror and grit my teeth against the throbbing of my torn nerves.

 

Dagdan barked out a laugh, “Gods I’ve missed that sound.”

 

Another blade winked in the sunlight in Brannagh’s hands and I narrowed my eyes at her, chin tilting slightly in a challenge that made her grin widen. “Then again,” she said thoughtfully, tapping the knife against her palm, “maybe it would make a better parting gift for our favorite High Lord.”

 

________________________

Okay, so I know I said two chapters until the end but I had way too much fun writing this showdown with the awful twins. Instead, there will be a total of 30 chapters plus the prologue and epilogue. So stay tuned for the exciting conclusion to Broken Dreams!

 

Reviews are always appreciated and thank you so much to those of you who have already taken the time to write one. Out of curiosity, what do you wish would happen to the twins? Leave your vote in the comments!

 

Also, if you've enjoyed Broken Dreams, you should check out my other story--The Thief and the Soldier. Things are are starting to heat up!


	30. Chapter 30

I bucked and twisted wildly, the familiar helplessness feeling like ashes on my tongue as Dagdan once again held me to the earth. All around me, the sky blazed a brilliant blue, the wind rustled the trees in a soft melody accompanied by the voices of the cheerful birds going about their day—it seemed like a slap in the face when my world was crashing down.

I wanted to rage at the sights and sounds. There was enough panic and impotent rage in me to fill all of Adriata with screams.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think through the panic and single thought that repeated in my mind on an endless loop.

Not my baby. Please.

A childish thought followed on its heels: it wasn't fair. None of the fairy tales I'd blundered through in Rhysand's library ended with the hero alone and tortured once again by the bad guys. We were supposed to get our happily ever after.

But there was no happily ever after in Brannagh's malevolent smile or the cruel tilt of her knife.

The promise of the immortal life I'd gained Under the Mountain suddenly felt like a curse. I could spend hundreds of years feeling the lash of the whip, the sting of a knife, and the crushing weight of my failure to protect the tiny life fluttering in my womb.

Feyre! Rhysand begged, tell me where you are. Please, I can't find you.

What would be left for him to find?

Maybe I didn't want to find what the twins left behind.

She drew closer, drawing out my terror until I was a shell of the person I'd been that morning on the roof of the Night Court's palace. I turned my head away, still seeking some kind of weapon that could save my baby. That could end this.

Hard fingers dug into my chin and Dagdan forced my face to tilt back to Brannagh. "Don't turn away, little human," he whispered with a mockery of a lover's caress, "I want to see your eyes when she touches you."

It was because of this that I got to witness the moment a wall of bright read flames smashed into Brannagh, bringing her to her knees with a shriek of pain. Dagdan made a bleat of surprise and concern for his twin and I felt his hold on me slip enough that I was able to yank myself free of his hold but was prevented from getting away by the blade that still pinned me to the stones. My eyes scanned the trees around us, searching for the source of the flames and felt my heart stutter in my chest at the sight of the familiar red hair.

Lucien.

His eyes were wild and furious, wholly focused on the white hot destruction that he rained on the twins. I remembered the way the endless well of sadness that lurked in his mind and the near-constant memory of the loss of the woman he'd loved. How had it felt for him to be forced to stand there as Elain was dragged from the Cauldron, a broken shell of the smiling girl she'd been? To have his mind invaded and controlled by the twins as they poisoned and tortured me in front of the camp?

Dagdan rushed forward, brandishing the sword that I'd dropped in my battle with Brannagh. They met in a burst of magic and brutal force that left the trees around us shuddering at each glancing blow. Brannagh stood to the left of me, her eyes focused on each movement of her twin and for the first time I felt her oily presence leave my shields to turn her power on Lucien.

When he staggered under the dual assault, I realized that Brannagh was trying to reestablish her hold on Lucien's mind as she had in the camps. Desperately I wished for my weapons and let my eyes wander back to the bleeding mess of my forearm. Gritting my teeth, I tightened my shaking fingers around the hilt of the knife and pulled hard.

Black spots danced in my vision and I was forced to focus on controlling my breathing and the urge to vomit for a long moment. Shaking my head to clear it, I held my prize and pulled myself slowly to my knees. My legs were trembling too hard for me to stand, but Brannagh was still watching her brother fight Lucien and I could not let this chance escape me.

I attacked.

First with the blade, slashing a deep groove along the base of her calf and felt the snap of her tendon with vicious glee; then, with the last of my magic. Reaching down my mate bond, I pulled at Rhysand's magic and it came in a wave of relief that I could feel down to my toes.

I tunneled through the filth and horrors of her mind with the same panicked ferocity as I had in the Middengard Worm's pit. She swayed above me like a leaf caught in the storm of my power, trying to turn to face me.

Dagdan bellowed in pain somewhere nearby, but I ignored him. There was no room in my head for concern or mercy.

Only death.

Her dark eyes met mine and she raised her weapon again, this time for a killing blow, but I knew it was already too late. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

And I closed it with a thought.

We breathed together, the world a confusing parallel between my perspective on the ground and hers above me. As one, we turned back to the fight before us.

Brannagh's flagging powers beat against mine like a gnat but I only sank my claw deeper into her. Taking pleasure in each wave of pain and twisting agony that told me my presence in her mind pained her.

Yes, I crooned to her and ripped through another of her flimsy shields, feel the monster you created.

Ignoring the bleeding body on the ground that I only distantly recognized as my own, we limped toward the two males. The deep gash in our leg was little more than a flicker of annoyance in our mind. Nothing mattered but ending this.

Dagdan was shouting something at us, but we only watched him, waiting. Knowing he could no more turn from us than we could walk away from this fight.

Lucien frowned at us and it was enough for Dagdan to shove away from him and rush toward where we stood, arms limp at our seat. His movements were strangely disjointed, as though his balance was off.

"Brannagh," he repeated, over and over, like a prayer, coming to a stumbling stop in front of us. Something in our mind was twisting and pushing like an animal caught in a trap, but it slowly flickered and died out under the weight of power sinking deeper and deeper in our mind.

We smiled her smile and cupped his cheek in a gentle caress that made him close his eyes in relief.

Then we sank our blade deep into his gut.

Brown eyes flecked with the same gold of Tamlin's hair met mine with shocked surprise that turned to agony as we twisted the knife deeper. He took a shaky step back and we let him go, following him like a cat before wounded prey.

"Do you think you'll get away?" we asked gently, holding our hand to the light of the bright sun to marvel at the red drops on our pale skin. "You have so much to atone for."

Dagdan seemed to gather himself then and pulled the blade free from his stomach with a pained gasp to hold out in a silent threat. Lucien started forward, but we cut him off with a gesture and low command, "Do not interfere."

We prowled forward, ignoring the blade even when it slashed high across our chest, dangerously close to our neck. The move left him over extended and we stepped into his guard long enough to bring our knee into his gut where the knife had been only moments before. He gagged violently, the noise of pain stifled as his lungs struggled to fill with air and he fell to his knees before me, hands braced on the paving stones.

Dagdan's eyes were wild with a panic that resonated in our mind and I felt Brannagh fighting harder than before with the knowledge of what I would do to him. I let her dying mind rise closer to the surface, let her see her twin and lover on his knees before me. Let her know what I intended to do to him.

Her mind was screaming, weeping, begging for her twin, but our mouth only smiled down at him.

Without warning, we brought the heel of our leather boot down hard on his right hand, the crunch of bone muted by the scream of surprised agony from Dagdan.

There was a crack of thunder and the world around us darkened as though a sudden storm was descending. We felt the air shift behind us as it was filled with the winged warrior from our memories, but we did not look away from the broken male at our feet.

The trees rippled and tossed around us as dark wings and furious violet eyes landed hard beside the limp, bleeding body on the ground. His hands feathered over her gently and some part of us twisted with a new kind of pain, but there was nothing that could stop us from ending this.

"Rhysand," Lucien breathed. "Feyre is controlling Brannagh's mind."

Ignoring their presence entirely, we kept our foot on Dagdan's shattered hand occasionally putting pressure on it with the same casual disdain they'd displayed in the camps. Tears streamed down our cheeks, the only evidence of Brannagh's continued presence. Dagdan dragged himself backward painfully with one hand, but we stopped him with a kick that sent him painfully to his back.

Slowly, letting him feel each moment of powerlessness, we knelt down over him until we were straddling him in a mockery of a lover's caress. Our finger traced the track of a bead of sweat that slowly disappeared into his dark hair.

Did you regret it? Any of it? I asked the female trapped beneath the weight of my power.

No, Brannagh sneered. I don't regret anything.

Good, I said and let her hands wrap gently around her twin's throat, then I won't either.

We snapped his neck.

I felt something invisible in her break with it, but I kept her eyes focused on the light slowly fading in Dagdan's eyes. On the way his mouth opened and closed in a final attempt to breathe, to speak. When he finally stilled, I let her feel what it was like to be truly alone for the first time in her long life.

It was easy to sweep the meager remains of Brannagh away and sink deeper into her mind.

We slowly stood, our body stained with the blood of our twin and a dispassionate smile twisting our mouth. The pain from our injuries was a forgotten memory compared to the desolation that swept through each of our cells. Leaning down, we pulled the stained knife from Dagdan's limp hand and considered the blade.

"Feyre…" the High Lord of the Night Court said gently, "you've done enough. We need to get you to a healer."

Our eyes turned to him and we frowned. It would never be enough.

Lucien began to move closer, but hesitated when we tightened our hold on the dagger and moved it closer to our chest.

"Feyre," Rhysand pleaded, one hand outstretched, "you've gone too deep into her mind. If you kill her, you'll hurt yourself too."

We stared at him, unseeing. Unfeeling.

We looked down at the knife in our hand, dark with Dagdan's blood, and pressed the point against our rib cage.

Rhysand went very still.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Hello my darling readers! 

I hadn't intended to make this chapter end with a cliff hanger, but I must have a little bit of evil in me. ;) It was a pleasure to finally bring an end to those damned twins but it also means that the next chapter will be the last. Thanks for sticking with me so long! I hope you enjoy the exciting conclusion to Broken Dreams! 

Please leave me a review if you enjoyed the chapter!


	31. Chapter 31

In honor of the release of the latest book in our beloved series, please enjoy the final chapter of Broken Dreams. Be sure to read the note that follows for information on the epilogue and other stories written by yours truly. And now, on with the show. 

 

The world was finally truly silent. Even the noise of the battle that still must be raging outside seemed distant and foreign against the beautiful backdrop of the park, now tainted with the blood of our struggle. Rhysand’s eyes were frantic in a way that made something in us stir, but it was feeble against the ancient weight of our combined minds and power.

We looked down at the blade that was still nestled against the skin of our chest at the perfect angle to slide into our heart, surprised that some part of us hesitated to complete our purpose. 

This creature did not deserve to live.

The thought was enough to tighten our hold on the blade, but movement from both males made us give a growl of warning, more animal than fae.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhysand said as he tucked his hands into his pockets, “I much prefer your real body than that creature’s. Why don’t you return to your own mind so we can discuss the merits of your decision to run off on your own again?”

Tension radiated from him even with his calculated calm posture. A muscle feathered along his jawline and we could see the fear in the whites of his eyes and the way he seemed to be afraid to look away from the knife in our hand. It made something in us stir uncomfortably.

The sound of footsteps made us look up to see a blonde female flanked by two more winged Illyrians rush into the park.

“Feyre!” she cried, heading toward the body with a venomous look in our direction. The two males started toward us and we bared our tiny fangs at them in warning.

“Stop!”

The order was met with confusion and a beat of silence where a mental conversation must be taking place. Rhysand remained focused on me, “Feyre…” he began again but we only took a step back.

The world felt too bright, too warm and we craved the cool darkness of the shadows beneath the trees. Rhysand stared at us silently for a moment before lifting his arms. We moved backwards, expecting an attack, only to watch darkness settle in like a blanket around us, leaving us standing alone in an inky expanse across from the High Lord.

His violet eyes glowed like stars in the gloom, anchoring us to the earth and our hold on the knife relaxed slightly. 

Here would be a good place to end things. To be at peace.

But something kept us in place. Watching. Waiting for an explanation for the new pain in our heart that bloomed to life each time we looked at the desperation in Rhysand’s eyes.

“I thought I lost you once,” Rhys said, voice hoarse and violet eyes blazing like cold fire, “I can’t watch you do this.”

The words caused a glimmer of memory to stir and we looked down at the blood on our hands. Red like the hair of a long dead tyrant. For a moment even the metal of the knife felt odd, as though I could feel the smooth wood grain of an ash blade instead of cold steel and leather.

My hands too, looked strangely bare in the dim light. Like some part of me was missing.

I swallowed hard, my mind a confusing mixture of memories both familiar and foreign and made me press the heel of my gory hand against my eyes.

Rhys nodded, hope stirring in his expression. “You are,” he began slowly, “one of the bravest, cleverest, most infuriating females I have ever met. I have been yours from the first moment you looked at me like I could be more than Amarantha’s whore. Like I could be more than a Lord of Nightmares and Darkness. Everything I know--everything I am--is better because you were foolish enough to accept me as your mate.”

He took a step forward, hands moving from his pockets to clench at his side. The shadows around us shifted and pulsed like a heartbeat, like the powerful being before us couldn’t stop them from reacting to the turmoil in his eyes.

“I miss you already,” he whispered. “It’s only been a few hours since I left you and it already hurts to think that I can’t listen to one of your sniping comments about sensitive Illyrian babies or catch you watching me with heat in your eyes when you think I’m not paying attention. All I want to is hold you again and hear your voice come out of your beautiful mouth.” 

My lungs burned and my eyes seemed to be unable to look away from him. Another step. Now he was within reaching distance, but for the first time, I didn’t have the urge to run.

“I thought I could be content with the amount of time fate would give us together. That I could be happy with each moment spent with you because each one was more than I deserved-” His eyes were darkness and light, my whole world. My salvation. “-But I was wrong.”

Slowly, giving me plenty of time to move away, Rhys brought his hand up to cup my cheek, “I would tear apart this world to save you and I would walk through hell with a smile if it meant I could bring you back with me.”

My body trembled like a leaf in the wind, torn between love and revulsion. Emotions that began to fray and split between two consciousnesses. He leaned closer and we held our breath.

“Come back to me.”

Without breaking my gaze, Rhysand slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine.

And the world exploded.

My mind seemed to fracture and I could feel my body spasming, back arching off the hard cobblestones, trying to center myself. It felt like everything within me was splintering and I screamed, but the sound came from an unfamiliar throat. There were shouts nearby, but I couldn’t find a way to see past the double vision of a torturer and their victim.

“FEYRE!” A bellow made my heart twist with a now familiar pain, but I felt like I was being washed away in violent mix of memories, thoughts, and sensations.

Part of me wanted the dizzying array to stop. To sink into the darkness Rhys created and just wait for him to join me. To find peace somewhere in that quiet place that I’d seen while bleeding and broken on the floor Under the Mountain.

As before, I finally found myself lingering nearby like a ghost of the pale form laying terribly still on the ground below. Unable to stay and unable to tear myself away from the sight of my mate clutching my body and screaming my name.

Sound faded away, replaced by the fading thump of a heartbeat beginning to slow.

Still I lingered, wishing I could see his face one more time, wishing I could see my baby’s eyes open for the first time.

Something pulled me forward, closer to where Rhysand was cradling me to his chest while Mor, Cassian, and Azriel were watching in mute horror. For a moment I saw one of Azriel’s shadows move toward me, but I passed by unnoticed. 

Moving toward the tiny pulse of power and light that fluttered weakly like a dying star, I watched the world around me begin to fade into black. Colors slipped out of my grip and I moved closer to my still body, instinctively drawing closer to the last bit of light. 

Slowly, gently, I reached a hand out towards it and smiled at the rush of warmth. It reminded me of the brightness and light left behind on our skin after Starfall. The memory and sensation centered me, making me feel more like myself even as the world felt like it was beginning to slip away from me. The light fluttered with a rapid heartbeat that told me my baby was still alive and fighting for life within me.

My little star.

If I concentrated, I could feel a gossamer thin strand of golden starlight tying us together and was surprised to see it wasn’t alone. I passed invisible fingers over the web that surrounded me, tracing back to the shadowy figures gathered around my body. My family. 

Even after all this time in the Night Court, I found myself surprised at the reminder that I was no longer alone. That I finally had a group of people who were willing to risk their lives for me just as I would do for them. Who would continue to stand by me even if I was powerless or weak. 

Gently I tugged at one of those bright strands and smiled at the images that came unbidden. Cassian laughing and teasing me out of the shell I’d created after Amarantha. Without hesitation, I moved my hand over each unbreakable tie. 

Azriel, the dark spymaster who was one of the kindest creatures I’d ever met. Mor with her irrepressible spirit. Mor who had seen the worst the world could offer and still chose to go forth with courage and find her own happiness. 

Then the brightest of them all: Rhysand, my mate and the High Lord who would sacrifice everything for those he loved. Who was willing to let the world hate him to protect a city of peace and the friends he loved. Rhysand the fae who taught me what love truly was: trust, understanding, support, forgiveness. 

Their light gave me strength and I looked down at the smallest of the threads, nestled closely against me and felt my own understanding dawn. Gathering that precious light to me, I dove into the center of that warmth with an ease that made my earlier struggles seem ridiculous. 

And opened my eyes to the bright blue of a summer sky against the outline of Rhysand’s worried face. 

Tears streamed down my face and I blinked once, then again. Each movement felt stiff, as though I’d forgotten how to move in this body of mine. Slowly, I reached a bloody hand up to cup his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Rhysand.”

His arms tightened around me and I felt him pressed a kiss to my forehead and let out a shaky breath. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” he whispered.

 

Hours later, we stood beneath the delicate stone archways of the Summer Palace’s terrace and looked down at the smoke and ruin left behind by the battle. A soft, sea kissed breeze ruffled my hair and the soft white gown Cressieda had let me borrow. Rhysand’s hands were wrapped around my middle so I was tucked protectively in the shelter of his body and wings, his thumb stroking lazy circles over my stomach. 

“What happens next?” I asked softly.

Rhysand’s fingers stilled as he considered the question. “We keep fighting. Now that Hybern has lost a large portion of his army and two of his generals, we can try to press our advantage with our alliance,” he said, eyes focused on the horizon. 

We carefully avoided discussing the unconscious body of Brannagh that Azriel was escorting to the Night Court’s cells as we spoke. I wasn’t sure if the damage I’d done to her mind would ever allow her to function again--I was sure I didn’t give a damn.

“I mean, how do I move on from this?” I hated the way my voice shook, the weakness that was still in me after all I’d been through. The way my human heart made me a victim so often.

Rhysand held me tighter, anchoring me to the earth as though I would fly away at any moment. “Every breath, every step you take forward is a victory that Brannagh and Dagdan will never take away from you,” he murmured against my hair. “You will never be alone again--even if I have to tie you to our bed.”

Laughter bubbled out of me, a weak sound against the press of memories that threatened to drown me once again. Twisting in his arms, I pressed my face against his chest and let the steady beat of his heart center me. 

The golden rays of the sun were abruptly cut off and I looked up to see his wings arch around me like a living shield. Protecting me always.

My breath was ragged, shuddering in my chest like the wild beat of my heart and I held on to the soft fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. Part of me wanted to hide away from the knowing looks and pity that was in the eyes of everyone I passed in the hallways of palace and at the High Lords’ table. 

But I was done being a victim.

I’d earned my place at Rhysand’s side as his High Lady. My revenge for those months of torture and pain was stained into the stones of the little park at the center of Adriata. I looked down at my hands in grim satisfaction as though expecting the blood to still mar the pale skin of my hands.

I would protect the people I loved using the memory of the night Hybern stole me from them as my guide. No longer would his evil be allowed to walk this earth unchallenged. No longer would he make victims out of the weak, the unsuspecting. We would win this war. 

Then we would make dreamers of the rest of the world. 

 

The End. 

 

Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is the end of our journey together! At this point, the story should *mostly* sync up with ACOWAR now and resolve my frustrations with the end of ACOMAF. Thank you so much to those of you who read and reviewed this piece! I still read through those reviews when I feel discouraged or am looking for some friendly pressure to complete a chapter. You’re all amazing. 

I plan to publish the epilogue soon, featuring the Feysand baby of my dreams. So stay tuned!

Ps. Also, if you haven’t already, you should check out my other story: The Thief and The Soldier. I still haven’t gotten many reviews for it so far so I’m curious to see what people think of the characters. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12875987/1/The-Thief-and-the-Soldier 

I also have a Nessian one shot called the Falling: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12786946/1/The-Falling


	32. Epilogue

Brannagh had few regrets in her life. If she was honest, there was very little empathy left in her after centuries of war and torture. She did not feel bad for the hundreds--possibly thousands--of victims that had died by her hands or the way the survivors would never be able to move past the horrors she and her twin had shown them.

 

But she did regret not killing the human bitch when she had the chance.

 

Images of that weak, pathetic body strung out on their torture rack winked through her mind like dying stars each day she’d sat in the silent cells beneath the Night Court’s palace. It would have taken less effort to pick out an annoying fleck of meat between her teeth than to snap that mewling female’s neck before she could escape back to her mate and ruin everything Brannagh had built.

 

Now she’d lost her twin and, even worse, her powers. 

 

The havoc Feyre wreaked on her mind in the Summer Court had broken something in her. A piece of her withered soul had been ripped free of its moorings, leaving her weak and vulnerable in a way she’d never been before. 

 

Brannagh supposed some would call it karma for all the years she’d spent torturing and killing those without any magic to defend themselves—she called it bullshit. 

 

If she could get ahold of that awful blade the shadow singer carried or one of the broadswords from the guards, she could finish things. Suicide wasn’t an option so long as that mortal whore walked around calling herself High Lady. Once Brannagh sipped her blood like a fine wine she could go into the other world to meet Dagdan without shame. 

 

She rattled the chains that kept her pinned to the rough wall behind her as she had every day for the last...she wasn’t sure. There was nothing to mark the passage of time here. Food was delivered at random and there were long gaps between visits from Azriel and Rhysand. The thought of the High Lord’s return was enough to make a shiver run through her thin body, despite her hatred. He’d clearly learned from Hybern’s favorite disciple Under the Mountain. 

 

The sound of a door scraping and the painfully bright light from the hallway flickered out over the stone floor made cold sweat trickle down her spine. Clenching her jaw, she slid on a practiced sneer and raked her eyes over the dark pants and high collared shirt of the High Lord of Night as he leaned against the doorframe to her cell, a cold smile creasing his handsome face.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he purred and she focused on maintaining her own calm facade.

 

“Come to kill me yet?” she said with as much restrained fury as she could muster. Her helpless rage grew when his smile only widened.

 

“Oh no, dear Brannagh, I have no intention of killing you.”

 

Brannagh frowned, “You can’t think these walls would keep me contained forever.”

 

Rhysand strolled into the room, purposely walking close to her and making sure she languished in every moment of helplessness he could manufacture. Ignoring her bared teeth, he picked a tiny speck of dirt from her shoulder, flicking it away with that feline smile firmly in place. His nostrils flared delicately as he took in her disgusting, blood stained clothes and she felt an angry flush heat her cheeks as humiliation warred with her rage.

 

“Are you ready for your punishment?” he purred and Brannagh felt a chill go down her spine. 

 

She’d learned the hard way that when this male was quiet, she should be prepared for the worst. Still, she’d meet her twin without ever being cowed by any of these fae who betrayed their magic and power in favor of human weakness. So she curled her lip in disgust, “Do your worst.”

 

“I plan to.”

 

Without warning midnight claws ripped into her fragile mental shields and she howled in pain, thrashing against the chains. Since that final battle in Summer, her powers and mental abilities were still in shambles. That human bitch had destroyed something when she ripped into her mind and Brannagh could do little more than scream as the powers of Night blew through her mind and settled in like a cat in its’ bed.

 

“Do you know why I chose today to finish things?” Rhysand asked in a conversational tone.

 

Brannagh didn’t respond--couldn’t respond with those awful claws sinking deeper into her mind, until she couldn’t be sure which thoughts were hers anymore. She just stared at him blankly.

 

“Today,” he said as if she’d responded to the question, “marks the end of the amount of the time you held my mate captive in your camp. Really it’s fortunate that the war ended as soon as it did so I could deliver your punishment personally.”

 

As he spoke, she felt the chains at her wrists, ankles, and neck shift like snakes and forge themselves together until she could walk, but was still bound by a long chain that moved into the High Lord’s waiting hand on an invisible wave of magic. Rhysand gestured to the door and she began to walk forward, her gait awkward as her mind struggled against the command. Her muscles screamed in pain at the movement after being immobile for so long, but there was very little she could do to stop him.

 

Once they were out the door, she felt his hand briefly touch her shoulder a moment before magic tugged at her in the familiar sensation of being winnowed from the area. When the world came back into focus, Brannagh blinked in surprise.

 

She expected to appear in front of a crowd screaming for her death or in front of an executioner’s noose. Instead she looked out at the seemingly endless blue waters of the ocean. The smell was a teasing reminder of her home island of Hybern and she sucked in a deep breath gratefully.

 

A rattle of chain was the only warning she had before her hands were tugged roughly forward as Rhysand began to climb a roughly cut path up through the rocks. Brannagh took the opportunity to look around and frowned thoughtfully. They were certainly not in Hybern. These rocky crags didn’t belong in the rolling plains and evergreen forests of her homeland.

 

The hold on her mind loosened enough that her movements were her own again, but it meant she had to summon the will to take each step or risk being dragged up the slope. Each time she cursed at him Rhysand seemed to speed up until she was gasping for breath and her muscles felt like liquid fire.

 

Once, in a smoother section of the path, she tried to rush forward and use the chain as a garrote to choke him with, but Rhysand had shifted out of her way with an embarrassingly small amount of effort. His foot moved forward, tripping her, and she fell hard into the rocks, her chained hands and feet unable to slow her momentum.

 

The sound of his smug laughter had been enough to keep her moving up the final, steepest section of the trail. She was so caught up in her embarrassed haste she nearly forgot that the end of the trail meant the beginning of whatever punishment he would give her. 

 

It all came rushing back at the sight of that massive carved door.

 

The Prison.

 

Brannagh had heard whispers and rumors of the horrifying Prison where the most infamous High Lords sent the creatures they considered too evil to be allowed to live free, but had never imagined seeing it for herself. Panic beat at her, making her chest rise and fall in an erratic tempo. 

 

Her eyes darted around the small clearing around the entrance, looking for a weapon, an escape route, anything that could save her from this fate. The sound of the High Lord’s approach brought her desperation to new heights.

 

“Something wrong, Brannagh?” he purred.

 

Without warning, she lunged forward, the movement hampered by the shackles but not the short distance to the High Lord. Brannagh poured every ounce of her fear and fury into a double fisted swing at the smiling profile of her enemy. She could use the chains meant to bind her as a weapon to destroy this male and everything he loved. As soon as she was free she’d gut his little human and tear their half breed mongrel---

 

He let her get within a hair’s breadth of his face before her body seemed to slam into a wall of adamantium. Brannagh screamed in rage and swung again, but the movement felt like she was swimming through honey and cost her dearly in speed. His feet whipped out in a blur of movement and crashed into the side of her face hard enough to send her flying into the doorway.

 

It opened behind her and, before she could try to run, Rhysand grabbed the length of chain and began to drag her into the darkness below. Screams and howls from the creatures within echoed off the rocky hallways in a cacophonous symphony of madness. They seemed to sense the presence of their captor and tormentor as he strode through the corridors. As soon as the entrance closed behind them, Rhysand began to move confidently through the dark, her chains in his hand and his seemingly limitless power blocking each of her attempts to break free. 

 

She lunged for him. Grabbed at the metal sconces that held the flickering candles that lit the hallways. Threw the melting candles at him. Thrashed against the metal chains. Clawed and pulled at the cuffs until her nails bled.

 

And still he forced her forward.

 

Rhysand didn’t stop until they reached a simple wooden door built into a rough stone archway. He coiled her chains around his hand in preparation to shove her forward and tossed her into the spartan cell. When he went to turn back to the door, she reached out a pleading hand.

 

“Please-” she said quietly, her terror outweighing her pride for the first time in her long life, “-Rhysand, don’t do this.”

 

A terrifying thought occurred to her then. If she was locked away here, she would never die. The gift of her race would become a curse and she would spend the centuries trapped within these walls, her world made up of only these few feet of cobblestones. 

 

She would never be able to see Dagdan again. 

 

She would be alone. Forever.

 

Rhysand looked at her without sympathy. “Do you understand your punishment now?”

 

“You can’t do this.”

 

He leaned against the wall, the shadows masking his expression. “I’ll admit, I never enjoy locking away females in these cells--even considering your crimes.”

 

There was a note of...something in his voice that made hope surge within her. “Please,” she said again.

 

“Please what?” Rhysand said gently, his voice like a lover’s caress.

 

“Please,” Brannagh bit out, color blooming on her cheeks.

 

“Perhaps if you begged.”

 

Brannagh looked up at the silhouette of him against the weak light of the hallway in surprise. “Wh--what?”

 

“Beg me to release you,” he said with a smile turned vicious and pointed to the dirty stone floor.

 

Brannagh hesitated, fighting against the bitter hatred swirling in her soul and her desperate need to be freed from this place. Slowly, nearly vibrating with the rage within her, she lowered herself to the floor and bowed her head.

 

“Lower.”

 

The command made her flinch, but she’d already come this far. She imagined the way she’d make Feyre scream and writhe in agony when she was freed as her back bowed and her hands hit the floor. The way she’d destroy everything and everyone the High Lord cared about. Perhaps when she was finished with them--and it would take a very, very long time--she would return to this place and leave Rhysand in the cell he’d once reserved for her.

 

Pressing her forehead to the disgusting floor, she let those images keep her sane against the continued reminder of just how weak she was in this moment.

 

“Please,” she said, her dark plans for the future lacing through each word like smoke.

 

Rhysand considered her for a long moment. “No,” he said and she jerked her head off the stone in surprise.

 

“But, you said--” Brannagh began furiously.

 

“I lied.” Rhysand’s smile widened slightly at the sight of her, broken and begging in the cell that would become her tomb. 

 

Then he slammed the door shut.

 

Four Months Later  
Velaris

 

The pain came suddenly, surprising me enough that I nearly dropped my paintbrush. Within a few moments it was gone, leaving only the memory in its wake. Frowning, I ran a hand over my massive stomach and felt a comforting kick in response. 

 

I looked back at my canvas and frowned at the image. The blue wasn’t right, I thought to myself. The Bone Carver’s eyes had looked brighter and I drew on the memory of our few conversations for inspiration. 

 

Since the final battle against Hybern’s forces, I’d barely gotten any time to paint or spend time by myself. Rhysand had been forced away time and time again to deal with the problems that came after a centuries long dictator was killed and his armies destroyed. It limited his ability to fuss over me as my stomach got larger and the pregnancy began to take its toll on me though his presence through our link was nearly constant. 

 

He was home as much as he could manage--rubbing my swollen ankles, marveling over each tiny kick, describing how each of my symptoms as signals that I was carrying the future heir of the Night Court. My mate seemed to delight in each of the changes in my body and took his time exploring each. I knew if he could be at my side every moment he would, but for now I was content for each moment of happiness--especially when I’d come so close to losing him.

 

Instead, the Inner Circle hovered around me like anxious mother hens—or bats, I corrected sourly—especially now that my due date was approaching. They seemed fascinated with every bit of my pregnancy and I got the feeling that they may never have been around a pregnant female before. I was also pretty sure I’d caught Cassian reading a parenting book in the library and Azriel asking Elain about human pregnancies. They edged around me like I was a vat of boiling acid surrounded by fragile glass--one misstep could mean death and destruction to any who crossed me.

 

They weren’t completely wrong.

 

I’d finally had to send them all away under threat of violence so I could paint. None of them were supposed to enter my painting suite for fear of death and dismemberment--which they’d accepted with a shared knowing look between them and I caught them whispering something about pregnancy mood swings later. 

 

Even so, I knew if I concentrated I could hear Cassian pretending to be reading a book somewhere nearby, but I tolerated it. At least I had the room to myself. 

 

I considered the beautiful child on my canvas again with a small, secret smile. My image was softer, kinder than the form the Bone Carver had used to tease me with, but still that beautiful dark haired boy. 

 

It was all I could paint now. 

 

Rolling my shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the tension in my lower back, I sighed. Morning was still several hours away and the uncomfortable, swollen nature of my pregnant body had driven me from sleep once again. When Rhys was here, he could help send me to sleep with a subtle use of his powers, but he’d been forced to rush to Summer to respond to an emergency meeting with Tarquin. Poor Cassian was probably exhausted from staying up all night, I thought with a rueful grin, but it served him right after I told him to leave me alone.

 

I let out a controlled breath as that pain returned and stood, trying to walk off the cramp with little success. It felt like the pasta I’d eaten for dinner that night wasn’t sitting well. I thought longingly of the cool night air and started for the door. Maybe a walk would ease some of this muscle ache and let me get a few hours of sleep before Rhys got back tomorrow.

 

Waddling out the door, I narrowed my eyes at Cassian as he moved by my side immediately. “I thought I said I wanted privacy,” I said waspishly.

 

“This is just coincidence,” he said with a wink that spoiled his attempts at looking innocent. “I was doing some reading and thought I might take a walk.” Cass waved a thick red book and I laughed at the title. Dealing with Dragons: Communication Between the Sexes.

 

Each time I was forced out of my bed to walk the corridors, Cassian would find the most ridiculous books in the library to pretend to read while he waited for me. My favorite so far was a collection of fairy tales titled Eating People is Wrong.

 

“You seem to be surrounded by dragons lately,” I teased as I looped my arm through his and began to painfully walk towards the garden Elain had been carefully restoring.

 

“And I enjoy every moment of it.”

 

We walked for a few moments in comfortable silence before he spoke again, “You’re up late tonight. Are you in pain?”

 

His attempt at nonchalance failed when I noted the tension bracketing his eyes. It soothed some of the irritation that bloomed alongside my discomfort. Shrugging, I bit back a wince at another wave of discomfort, “Turns out growing a baby is tougher than I thought.”

 

I was breathing hard by the time we reached the stairs and we paused while I tried to catch my breath. “You need to start training with me again--you’re getting out of shape,” he joked and I narrowed my eyes at him.

 

Before I could respond, I felt a wave of horror wash over me as a warm river of liquid streamed down my legs, soaking the material of the soft dress I’d worn to bed and pooling on the floor. Cassian followed my gaze to the floor, his eyes rounding in surprise. “Shit,” he said softly.

 

“I’m so sorry, Cass. The baby sits right on my--”

 

“Your water just broke.” 

 

We looked at the liquid in matching expressions of stunned horror on faces. I shook my head slowly, “No. No, it’s not that. I--Rhys isn’t here. I can’t go into labor without him.”

 

Cassian ignored my futile attempts to dismiss the water still running down my legs and scooped me up into his arms to run down the hallway. My breath came in ragged pants as he bellowed down the hallway, “Cerridwen! Nuala! Get the others!” Twin bursts of shadow streaked ahead of us as he rushed back to my bedroom. “Are you in pain, Feyre?” he demanded, reminding me of the way he ordered soldiers on the battlefield.

 

“Just my back,” I began and he cursed.

 

“Damnit Feyre! You’re supposed to tell us these things!” Cassian growled. “For how long?”

 

“A few hours maybe,” I admitted. “I thought it was just back pain from walking too much.”

 

My head fell back against his arm and I had to breathe through my teeth as that awful clenching pain returned. Distracted by the sounds of distress that seemed to come from my throat without my permission, Cassian nearly bowled over Azriel and Mor coming from the other end of the corridor. The hallway became a confusing mess of Illyrian wings, shouted questions, and three fae trying to offer assistance all at once. 

 

“Enough!” An irritated voice commanded from a few feet away and I looked up to find Amren scowling at all of us. “You’re making enough noise to wake all of Velaris. Get her into the room and stop acting like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off.”

 

Cassian tightened his hold on me and pushed his way into my empty bedroom. He started to put me on the massive bed, but I pushed him away. “No,” I said, feeling sweat trickle down my back, “I can’t do this yet.”

 

My attempt to walk was halted as that wave of pain returned and the muscles in my back spasmed and tightened in response. Gritting my teeth, I held onto the smooth wooden banister and tried to ride it out.

 

“Breathe, Feyre,” Cassian rumbled soothingly, his battle roughed hands gentle on my back. “In and out. Don’t try to hold your breath--just breathe through it. The books said it would make it worse.”

 

“Books?!” I snarled and he grinned at me, unrepentant.

 

“Feyre,” Mor said in a soft voice, “Azriel is going to get Rhys, but you can’t fight this.”

 

I growled in a mixture of frustration and pain, pulling at the link thinned by distance between me and my mate. Through it, I knew he was alive and healthy, but I wasn’t sure if he was close enough to get a message.

 

RHYS! I bellowed down the link and cursed out loud when silence was the only answer.

 

Pacing and ignoring the Illyrian-shaped shadow I’d grown, I tried to focus on my breathing and trying to convince my body to wait just a little longer. Cerridwen and Nuala offered cool washcloths to wipe away the sweat on my brow and sweet drinks to restore some of my strength, but I could feel the sleepless night and long labor beginning to wear on me. When I could no longer walk around the room, Mor and Cassian helped get me comfortable on the bed as the contractions began to come more consistently.

 

Rhysand, I need you.

 

Cerridwen made a small sound of concern as she cleared away the soiled bed sheets to lay a thick blanket beneath me. Mor stepped away to see what was wrong and I felt the tension build in Cassian as we both heard the words “too much blood” drift over from their huddled conversation. He tightened his hold on my hand, looking pale. 

 

“It’ll be alright,” he murmured and brushed the wet washcloth over my sweat-dampened forehead.

 

“You have to save the baby,” I told him quietly and met his eyes with steady assurance. “If it comes down to it. Save the baby.”

 

“It won’t,” Cass growled, but he nodded anyway.

 

There was a crack of thunder and I looked up in relief as Rhysand appeared in a cloud of smoke and ash. He was at my side in less than a heartbeat, claiming Cassian’s place and letting his bright violet eyes trace my tired features. My mate pressed a kiss to my palm and squeezed it gently, “I’m sorry I’m late.”

 

Nuala gave him a grim smile, “Perfect timing, my Lord. It’s time to push.”

 

Hours later I lay exhausted in my bed with my mate curled against my side, his wings creating a comforting cocoon around us. Rhysand’s eyes were fixed on the tiny bundle asleep in my arms, a look of stunned wonder on his face. I traced the curve of a chubby cheek and brushed away a tuft of dark hair from his brow.

 

“He is the most handsome baby,” he said in a hushed voice, careful not to wake him.

 

“He is the most delightful baby,” I whispered back and we shared a smile.

 

“But what should we name him?” Rhys asked.

 

I considered this. It was strange to think that I knew exactly what my baby would look like when he grew up a little, but we’d never decided a name beforehand. My eyes drifted over the tiny face relaxed in sleep for the millionth time and smiled softly, “Vega.”

 

Rhysand kissed my cheek and settled closer to me, “A fitting name for the future Lord of Night. It’s perfect.” 

 

Vega stirred and snuggled deeper into the crook of my arm. The glow of my skin didn’t seem to bother him as his father and I watched him dream his first dream. The newest member of the Court of Dreams slept on as Rhysand and I continued to marvel at each perfect feature and movement, neither of us wanting to close our eyes and miss a moment of this. Of him.

 

Our little star.

 

 

Thank you to all of you who have read this far! I hope you enjoyed the final piece of Broken Dreams as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. A special thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review--they make my week! 

If you haven't already, feel free to check out my other ACOTAR fanfics and let me know what you think!


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